


entwine

by ndnickerson



Series: Nancy Drew - Star Trek AU [1]
Category: Nancy Drew - Carolyn Keene, Star Trek
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Space, Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, Bonding, Cunnilingus, F/M, First Meetings, Fuck Or Die, Investigations, Marriage, Married Sex, Mind Meld, Missionary Position, Mystery, Oral Sex, Pon Farr, Reconciliation, Reconciliation Sex, Telepathic Bond, Telepathy, Wedding Night, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-29
Updated: 2013-10-06
Packaged: 2017-12-27 22:17:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 37,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/984247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ndnickerson/pseuds/ndnickerson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lieutenant Commander Nancy Drew is assigned to investigate the loss of a starship under mysterious circumstances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm fully aware that the Venn diagram overlap between "Nancy Drew fanfic readers" and " _Star Trek_ enthusiasts" is probably rather unique. I wouldn't say that you need any specific knowledge of Star Trek to read this, but it helps. Set circa 2380, after the conclusions of all the TV series, and in the prime universe - this means it's set in a universe similar, but not identical to, the one in _Star Trek_ (2009 film), and considerably after that time frame. If you're not into Star Trek, think of this as Nancy Drew in space, and that might help. Also, this started out as crackfic and then started developing a plot. A _plot!_

Lieutenant Commander Nancy Drew's life fit into a small metal case, point-three meters by point-three meters by a quarter-meter. Not much could, or did, fit inside, but that was okay, because Nancy had never seen herself as a particularly sentimental person. She carried a chip she could plug into any replicator unit because she had grown tired of reprogramming the many replicators she had encountered by hand, trying to cajole them into making Hannah's chicken-noodle soup or a perfectly balanced cup of Tarkalean tea. She carried a padd that had been rebuilt several times over, which was now ensconced in a case deemed "indestructible, for now, until you find the next damn way" by her assistant, Lieutenant Fayne. She carried a separate chip which contained holographic images of her family back on Earth; while the images were also archived on her personal subspace storage, Nancy had learned early in her career that redundancies were always better than the alternative. She carried a modified tricorder with extra space she used to house video and audio depositions and testimony.

It had been modified in other unique ways as well, ways that she and Lieutenant Fayne kept to themselves. It could be used to penetrate most known security systems, calibrated to find shields and other cloaking devices, and to detect most poisons.

Anything else could be found at her destination. Ship's stores and replicators were happy to provide her with clothing, and one set of quarters looked much like the next. She carried the essentials, and never stayed in one place very long.

When Lieutenant Fayne wasn't coming up with a new way to improve her commander's padd or tricorder, she was generally doing the same thing Nancy was: waiting impatiently for a new assignment. Downtime made them both restless, and when they could take advantage of holodeck facilities, they used them to scale incredible mountains, explore deep caves, tackle rapids and trails on planets they hadn't yet visited. It wasn't the perfect solution, and despite the incredible marvel of the technology, both of them were distantly aware that the simulations were just that—simulations.

But Starbase 8 didn't even have any holodeck facilities. Instead, it provided a wide variety of courts and facilities for many different sports. Lieutenant George Fayne, her dark eyes alight, was describing one such sport, which would involve their donning underwater respiration gear and amassing a certain number of points within a certain timeframe. Apparently it was a popular Lailaru game, and Fayne had become acquainted with a visiting Lailaru ensign a few days earlier.

"I'm not sure," Nancy told her, rubbing her shoulder ruefully. While Dr. Roelich had ably treated it after their last overzealous attempt to learn a new sport had ended with her landing squarely on her insufficiently-padded shoulder, she still felt a little wary. "Think we could try something a little less intense first? Like _mok'bara_?"

George chuckled. "You really do want it to escalate, eh?"

"Just wanted to make sure your _bat'leth_ skills weren't getting rusty."

"Look, that was _one time._ " While George's eyes were still alight, Nancy could tell she was thinking about it. Maybe Nancy had bested her last time, but that just meant the time was ripe for a rematch.

Nancy Drew and George Fayne had met when they were both at Starfleet Academy. Nancy's mother had been an investigator before and after her only child was born, but she had died when trying to discover the source of an outbreak that had infected a full third of the crew on the science ship USS _Higgs._ The virus had been artificial in origin, and that was the reason Catherine Drew had been called in; she had been working alongside a team of Starfleet doctors, and had ultimately found the culprit, but exposure to the virus had claimed her life.

Nancy had known that her father hadn't wanted his only daughter to follow in his wife's footsteps, but she had grown up idolizing both her parents. She had kept recordings of all the subspace bedtime stories her mother had told her, and Carson Drew was proud to display the souvenirs his wife had sent back to them from distant planets. Joining Starfleet had been a way of reconnecting with her mother, even in a small way, and when she was lucky enough to run into a crew member who had known her mother, she was always told that the resemblance was uncanny. Her mother's hair had been more golden than Nancy's strawberry blonde, but they had the same eyes, the same tenacity.

George Fayne had intended to study planet-bound theoretical physics before one of her cousins had convinced her to consider Starfleet. It had seemed like a perfect fit at the time, but George had discovered a few things pretty much immediately: she fit in well with the bright cadets she met at the Academy, and she was much better with her hands than she was with theoretical physics. She loved the ideas as much as anyone, but she was even better with practical applications. While working with Nancy, George was able to not only design new programs and devices to further her investigations, but to send the designs and schematics back to Starfleet to help others. She had the best of both worlds. She wasn't stuck in a stagnating lab, and she wasn't running security or a regular detail.

Together, Nancy and her assistant had visited several Federation planets and starships, interviewed crew and civilians, processed crime scenes, and closed countless investigations. What George begrudged was that they were sometimes _too_ good. Lately George had begun suggesting that they could take a long-term infiltration assignment with Starfleet Intelligence, and Nancy had to admit that the idea wasn't entirely unappealing. Both of them loved their families but were accustomed to spending long stretches of time away from Earth, and neither of them had any intention of settling down planet-side anytime soon.

"Sinak to Lieutenant Commander Drew."

Nancy and George were just leaving the food court when the message came through Nancy's comm badge. She tapped it, her blue eyes meeting George's dark ones. Sinak was the base's communications officer. "Drew here."

"High-level communiqué coming in. Shall I route it to your quarters?"

"Yes, I'll be there soon. Thanks. Drew out."

The turbolift ride back to the main guest quarters didn't take long, but Nancy spent it fidgeting in anticipation, and George was practically just as eager to find out if the communiqué was a new assignment. A high-level dispatch almost guaranteed it.

Once they had made it to their quarters, Nancy went through voiceprint confirmation before the Federation logo was replaced by an image of Admiral Luuris. "Lieutenant Commander, time is of the essence. Report to the USS _Donovan_ immediately for transport. You and Lieutenant Fayne will receive your mission debriefing en-route."

The two of them were often dispatched at a moment's notice, so that in itself wasn't so unusual. The urgency was a bit alarming, though.

The _Donovan_ was in dock, and as soon as Nancy and George were on board, a lieutenant commander ushered them to guest accommodations. Nancy took the opportunity to ask the tall, slender Andorian about their destination; all he knew was that they were going to rendezvous with the USS _Hood_ in five hours' time, if their chief engineer stopped howling about their newly-reconditioned warp engines.

George joined Nancy in the latter's quarters with her own luggage; she carried a briefcase similar to Nancy's, and a set of her own personal tools. The guest quarters were meant for dignitaries, and Nancy's room had been outfitted with a conference table. They both took seats there, looking expectantly at the large viewscreen.

Admiral Luuris's image appeared on-screen again. He was Coridanite, and while Nancy and George hadn't had any dealings with him before, they were both aware of him by reputation.

"Lieutenant Commander Drew, Lieutenant Fayne—after the _Donovan_ makes its rendezvous with the _Hood_ to pick up a consultant, the ship will proceed to Starbase 226, near Mira Antlia IV. After the dropoff, you'll have access to a runabout you can use for a field base and transport.

"The incident you're being sent to investigate is a massive disaster. The captain of the ship was a casualty, along with many of the crew members; the survivors are being treated on Starbase 226, but the wreckage of the USS _Scovill_ was caught in the gravitational field of Antlia IV, and you'll have the best chance of determining what happened there.

"If your findings indicate suspicious circumstances, then we may proceed with a court martial."

Nancy and George exchanged a glance. Court martials weren't common, and they definitely weren't indicated in cases of simple negligence or error—not in regular cases, anyway. The _Scovill_ had been lost, though. When a starship was lost, command usually demanded answers.

Admiral Luuris continued with his prerecorded message. "I'm sending you overview reports. Contact me via a secure channel once you've reached the planet, and we'll proceed from there. I've also dispatched a team of engineers; preliminary reports indicate that we may be dealing with high levels of dangerous radiation as a result of the original event, so be careful and keep me informed. Luuris out."

Nancy took a deep breath as she pulled out her padd, activating it so it would download the preliminary reports. "Guess we'll have to work on those _bat'leth_ technique later."

George made a face. From the gravity in the Admiral's voice, neither of them thought it would be a brief or easy investigation. "Wonder why we suddenly need a consultant," she mused.

Nancy shrugged, her eyes widening as she saw the progress bar indicating the speed—and size—of the reports download. "Maybe an engineering specialist," she said, her own voice distracted.

George grinned, recognizing the expression. Nancy would be totally engrossed soon. "Hope he's at least cute," she said, fully aware that Nancy wouldn't hear her.

Since they had known each other at the Academy and over the years she and Nancy had been working together, they had become good friends, and George couldn't imagine working as well with anyone else.

They felt similarly about romantic entanglements, too. Nancy attracted her fair share of admirers when conducting investigations, but she was rarely tempted into any lasting relationships. Since George was her assistant, she had more freedom to interact with the witnesses and suspects they met. She counted many of them among her friends and acquaintances, but the men and women with whom George had shared brief flings were few and far between.

When Nancy and George went to the transporter room to greet the consultant, though, both of them were surprised by the figure who coalesced from the beam. She was short, curvy and blonde, with long straw-blonde curls, and she wore a wide smile as she stepped off the platform, addressing the transporter operator first. "Hi! Do you have an anti-grav cart?"

George blinked. Nancy raised an eyebrow. The transporter operator asked her to wait a moment, and as the consultant let the _Hood_ know she had arrived safely, the lieutenant returned with an anti-grav cart and began loading the veritable mountain of luggage that had beamed over with the blonde onto it. With all that luggage, she had to be an engineer...

Although Nancy wouldn't have expected so much of the luggage—or the consultant herself, really—to look so very _feminine_ , in that case.

A jeweled headband sparkled in the blonde's hair, and her fingernails were painted metallic pink, Nancy noted with some amusement as the consultant extended a hand in greeting. The rest of her outfit was ultra-stylish, too; her flowing blush-pink tunic top left her arms bare and was cut to reveal a moderate amount of cleavage, and she wore tight black leggings and high-heeled boots with it. "Sorry, not an engineer," she said cheerfully. "Pleased to meet you, Lieutenant Commander Nancy Drew... and Lieutenant George- _not_ -Georgia Fayne. I'm Bess Marvin, and I've been asked to help you out with your investigation. Sorry I'm not the handsome rugged type you were hoping for, either." Bess's large dark eyes danced.

"What...?" George began, a suspicion already forming in her mind as the lieutenant finished loading the cart and they began to move toward the guest quarters.

"Betazoid," Bess answered in a single confirming word. "I'm given to understand that many of the engineering staff on the _Scovill_ were severely wounded and are unable to verbally or consciously communicate with anyone; that's why I'm here."

Nancy nodded. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Bess glanced over at Nancy. "Yes, I have access to the same files you do—"

"Do you have to do that?" George asked, scowling.

Bess glanced up at her, then tilted her head. "I'm sorry," she said. "I understand. It's disconcerting."

"It's more than disconcerting," George muttered. George was generally very private, and Nancy felt defensive on her behalf.

Which Bess apparently picked up on quickly. "Why don't I get settled in and I can meet with you back in your quarters so we can go over the reports?"

Nancy nodded and considered the time. "Say oh-nine-hundred?"

As soon as Bess had vanished into her guest accommodations with a cheery wave, George turned to Nancy. "Betazoids don't require special equipment for their probing techniques," she said scornfully. "Wonder if the rest of her luggage is packed with even less practical outfits, like what she has on today."

Nancy chuckled. "She'll probably be on starbase while we're planetside," she reassured her assistant. "Cheer up, George."

When she was back in her room alone, though, Nancy pulled up the file on the newest member of the group. Bess Marvin was indeed a full-blooded Betazoid, and though she was about the same age as Nancy and George, she already had a distinguished record. She had gone through an intensive program on Betazed which had trained her in advanced telepathic therapeutic techniques. Some of those techniques involved communicating with individuals in persistent vegetative states, or those who had gone through intense psychological or neurological trauma. Thanks to her clearance, Nancy was able to pull up her esper scores; they were off the charts. The innate telepathic power of Betazoids was already formidable by itself, but Bess's scores made her earlier teasing seem mild.

Nancy and George had met a few malicious telepaths in the course of their investigations, and so both of them had learned how to mount rudimentary mental shields against such intrusion. Nancy understood, though, that if Bess so chose she could break through them with little to no effort. Nancy and George's shields were suited more to brief, subconscious attacks.

At the Academy, just like the rest of the cadets, Nancy had been tested to determine her esper rating. She had scored slightly above average. George had scored at average. The explanation that had come along with Nancy's test results had explained that her hunches might be right more often than not thanks to her aperceptive abilities, but that was probably the only advantage she would see as a result.

Before the test, Nancy had known that she was able to make generally dependable logical leaps. Seeing it in black and white on a padd screen hadn't changed much. It did mean that she could feel telepathic contact a bit more easily than George, but that was all.

Nancy sighed and rubbed her eyes, looking down at the standard neutral Starfleet jumpsuit she wore. All the reports she had seen about whatever the _Scovill_ 's mission had been were vague. She didn't even know yet who had survived the disaster, just that the captain hadn't. Luckily Antlia IV was a class-M planet, and they wouldn't be spending the salvage efforts in suits. As always, she was eager to get to work and impatient at the delay.

Still, the ship was traveling at Warp 8, now that Bess was on board. Even that bespoke some urgency.

Nancy couldn't help smiling a little. She couldn't say she had ever been ultra-feminine herself, but in comparison to George's disdain for cosmetics or revealing clothing, Nancy didn't mind dressing up every now and then. She just didn't have much chance to do so. As George often pointed out, if either of them had wanted a life entertaining dignitaries or attending insufferable diplomatic functions, they had definitely chosen the wrong career, and she was glad.

By the time the _Donovan_ had dropped out of warp to approach Starbase 226, Nancy had practically memorized the biographical sketches of the full crew compliment of the _Scovill_ and all the missions it had been assigned in the six months prior. George had familiarized herself with schematics of the ship and the equipment available at the starbase. Bess had been more interested in the crew profiles, but she had taken the time at their briefing to tell George that she would happily stay out of her head. George had just nodded in acknowledgement, avoiding looking into Bess's face.

"That doesn't mean I can't hear what your thoughts are practically shouting right now," Bess had added, arching one silky blonde eyebrow. She was on her second mug of hot chocolate, and Nancy had identified her awareness of Bess's ability as an almost imperceptible silent hum that she kept sensing. From Bess's demeanor, she seemed calm and slightly amused.

George's expression would have been murderous to anyone else. "I am _not_ shouting."

Both of them had incredibly dark eyes, Nancy noticed with a small smile. George's were dark brown, but Bess's were very close to black, as were most full-blooded Betazoids'. Nancy always found it disconcerting to look into a Betazoid's eyes for the first time; it was like peering into a dark fathomless pool.

Bess's own lips curved up into a smile. "It's just difficult, that's all. I could help you, if you'd trust me—and, yes, even if you didn't. The worst kind of telepath is the one who is dishonest, and I much more often err on the side of more information. The small petty lies... and no, high-heeled shoes aren't lies no matter what you think, they're just beautiful. I don't care if you think my every outfit is frivolous, or if you feel I don't and can't serve as any real help to you. I'm here to help the people who are hurting, and if that serves your ends in the process, so be it. Hurting or upsetting you intentionally, though, would be just as disturbing to me as it would be to you. It's..." She paused, looking down at her mug of hot chocolate. "It's as though you met a race who could... who produced the most incredible smells to indicate what they were feeling and thinking, but could not smell themselves. Who sang their thoughts but could not themselves hear. I have working ears, though."

"I suppose I just would rather you plug them."

Bess inclined her head, that small smile still lingering. "After," she said, "when we've discovered what happened on the _Scovill_ and the pressure is off, you could both do with a drink," she said. "And a shopping trip. I think the three of us will be good friends."

George snorted before she thought better of it.

"No, really. It's so much easier when you're truthful. These vague, face-saving lies do more to hurt than the alternative."

"Fine. I can't imagine someone who has less in common with me," George replied. "We deal in facts, truths, right and wrong. Everything for you is touchy-feely and about emotions and intent and subconscious desires. And you come wearing _that_?"

Bess looked down at her flowing scoopnecked cerise gown; one wrist was bound in a set of tasseled bracelets woven with designs in a metallic thread. "So I should wear one of those deeply unflattering unisex jumpsuits and flats, tie my hair back and look above all professional—because otherwise I might be doubted..." Bess tapped a fingertip once against her mug of chocolate. "But you're passionate, and you have an exemplary service record—yes, I checked up on you too. You fight so hard to be who you are, but when you see someone like me..."

George stood up. "I'll find you when we arrive," she told Nancy.

Bess stood too, her dark eyes still fixed on George. "You're jealous of me," Bess said, her voice just a hair lower; her tone was soothing, like she was speaking to a spooked horse. "Oh, Lieutenant Fayne. Wearing your heart on your sleeve isn't a weakness."

"And trusting everyone you meet is a recipe for disaster," George shot back, and strode out of Nancy's quarters without another word.

Bess's gaze had stayed locked on the doors as they closed, and for a moment after. Then she turned to Nancy, who had watched the exchange with some trepidation. Bess finished her hot chocolate, then left the empty mug on the table and closed her eyes briefly.

"I'll need to take the last few hours before our arrival for some meditative exercises," she said, her voice still low and soothing, almost musical. "But you're the commanding officer here, so I defer to your judgement. I had sensed that you wished me to begin immediately?"

Nancy nodded twice. "With the most critically wounded, if possible," she said, interlacing her fingers and leaning forward a little. "Any and all evidence is welcome, so we can have a complete picture of what happened. I'm not sure if you've had any experience with programming holo-environments to reflect recollections..."

Bess gave a little head-tilt that Nancy had begun to equate with a shrug. "Some, and generally in a therapeutic sense, but I understand. I will also tell you freely that the closer an individual's consciousness is to death, the more extensive the injuries, the more difficult the process will be for me, and I will require recovery time. I have encountered some whose traumatic experiences made recovery of their memories almost as difficult, but I can give you a clearer picture once we arrive. Is that acceptable?"

Nancy nodded again, a small smile turning up her own lips. The change in Bess's demeanor hadn't gone unnoticed. With George she seemed almost confrontational.

Bess smiled, too. "Sorry. It's practically a knee-jerk response. She's defensive, and when anyone puts up shields so quickly, it's the equivalent of a human walking into a room and finding that the occupants already there stop conversing when she walks in. You know whatever's going on is interesting, and I've always been a curious woman."

"Well, that, the three of us _do_ have in common," Nancy said with a grin.

"And you're calm, focused, determined. That's easy to pick up on too."

"I try to be. And I'll try to run interference..."

Bess waved a hand, and Nancy noticed a large stone set in an intricate band on her left ring finger. "Like it?" Bess responded to her interest, holding it up again. "My partner gave it to me on our last anniversary."

"It's beautiful. I've never seen anything like it."

"He's good, that way." Bess took a deep breath and pushed her chair away from the table. "And while I appreciate the offer, what kind of therapist would I be if I couldn't deal with a defensive coworker?"

That reassurance was still ringing in Nancy's ears as she, George, and Bess headed to the transporter room with their luggage—and the same long-suffering ensign with his anti-grav cart full of Bess's supplies. A new assignment, her anticipation before she could begin—it was familiar but intoxicating every single time, and Nancy's blood practically sizzled with impatience. While she believed that Bess and George would be able to work things out between them, while she believed that Bess could be a great asset to the investigation, Nancy still wasn't all that fond of unknown quantities. And Bess still was a bit of one herself.

As soon as they had beamed on board, Nancy asked for her suitcase to be taken to her accommodations while she went immediately to the base's medical facility. Starbase 226's Chief Medical Officer, a Trill doctor named Fasden, was resting after pulling a grueling shift, and so Nancy spoke to his second in command, a young female Vulcan who was most likely twice Nancy's own age. She identified herself as Leival, and over the course of their conversation she was approached several times by medical personnel with padds and breathless questions. Nancy was impressed, but not surprised, when Leival managed to keep her calm and composure throughout, despite all the interruptions.

"Of the seventy-three crew members initially transported to us, sixty-five have survived," Leival told Nancy, her dark eyes serene. Her dark curly hair was close cropped, revealing the points of her dark-brown ears. "Eighteen have been placed in stasis due to the extent and severity of their injuries. The highest-ranking survivor was third in command at the time of the event."

Nancy ran through her mental list of the crew's members in the blink of an eye, and was dismayed when she realized that less than half the original complement had survived. Whatever had claimed the _Scovill_ , it definitely had been a catastrophe.

"And is he conscious, and able to communicate?"

Leival nodded. "He is still healing, but mobile. He has been assisting us here, in sickbay. Many of the engineering crew are undergoing treatment for extensive exposure to radiation."

Those in stasis had been closest to the event when it happened, and Bess went to them first. Nancy had seen each of them, thanks to the photographs included with their electronic personnel files; she could remember seventy-five smiling faces belonging to beings who were now dead. While she hoped that intentional sabotage had not been the cause, the alternative was almost more disturbing.

While George took command of the starbase's runabout and headed to Mira Antlia IV to confer with the engineers working on retrieval and cleanup, Nancy began her interviews, leaving Bess to her work. The _Scovill_ was a science and exploration ship, and the majority of the crew had been science officers and scientists—until about four months earlier. In what had appeared to be a routine staffing cycle, a full quarter of the crew had been swapped out for engineers who focused on more unique and theoretical applications—and many of those engineers hadn't survived the ship's destruction. Whatever they had been exploring or expecting to find, Nancy thought they had probably found it.

But she had found no hint of anything unusual in the ship's assigned missions. She didn't have the most recent set of logs, because the ship had been at the edge of the subspace radio limit for a time; George already knew to be on the lookout for any ship's components that might hold a copy of any logs. Retrieving them from the relay on the starbase was a possibility, if any had been received, but Nancy had been through that process before. It was time-consuming and almost guaranteed some data loss.

The rest of the day was taken up with the interviews. As Leival and, a few hours later, Dr. Fasden, tended to the wounded crew members, Nancy made her way systematically through the medical facility. A few crew members still didn't have the stamina or strength to take Nancy through a detailed account, and Nancy was faintly amused when Bess responded to Nancy's mental notes with an acknowledging message to Nancy's padd. Bess was carefully making her own rounds, determining which of the survivors was the best bet for memory recovery.

The crew members who were not engineers were in the best physical shape, Nancy noted. Their accounts of the time immediately before the accident agreed that a tremendous series of explosions had shook the ship in the middle of its artificial "night" cycle, and that their last mission had been sample and data collection in a rather unusual inversion nebula in the farther reaches of the Beta Quadrant.

When Nancy asked if they had noticed any new equipment or construction on board the _Scovill_ , many of them weren't sure. A handful told her that Shuttlebay 2 had been closed off for a new project.

The captain would have known what was going on in the shuttlebay, and most likely the first officer would have, too. The second officer... Nancy wasn't sure, but she decided to give it a shot. As the highest ranking survivor, his reputation was the one most at risk from whatever the court martial might find, if one was held.

The captain had been a Benzite named Hallin, but the majority of the other crew members had been human, including the first officer, a theoretical astrophysicist from Earth named Susan Long. Nancy hadn't yet spoken to any survivors who had been on the bridge at the time, but the second officer most likely would have taken that shift.

He was a Vulcan, one of only two on the _Scovill_ 's crew, and the only one to have survived. Nancy had seen him before she realized who he was; although he was dressed in loose cotton medical greens signifying his status as a patient, he was also coordinating with Leival and Dr. Fasden and assisting in their efforts.

Nancy swiped her padd screen, making sure all the interviews and recordings she had made so far were backed up to both her subspace storage and local encrypted storage on the starbase, before she found him. He was carrying a pair of hyposprays, and when he turned, Nancy pulled up short to prevent running into him.

He was tall, with neatly-trimmed dark hair and dark eyes—and Nancy was reminded again of that sense of weightlessness when she looked into his eyes. His expression was impassive, but his face was marred by a dark green-tinged bruise on one cheekbone. He was a full head taller than she, and more muscular than most of the Vulcans she had met.

"I'm Lieutenant Commander Nancy Drew and I've been appointed by Starfleet command to investigate what happened on the _Scovill_ ," she said, almost breathlessly; she had repeated the phrase so many times that it was beginning to seem almost meaningless. "May I ask you a few questions, Lieutenant Commander?"

"Yes," he replied. "May I deliver these?"

Nancy nodded. She needed a break herself, and she had noticed that the food court area was nearby. "I'm going to get a drink. Meet me there?"

Five minutes later, they were sitting across from each other at a small table near a stand advertising tea made from genuine, non-replicated, physically imported dried leaves. Nancy had procured a cup. When the server approached the commander, he ordered a glass of water.

"Where were you at the time of the event?"

"You are referring to the explosions on Deck 12?" Nancy nodded. "I was in command on the bridge."

Nancy glanced down just to make sure her padd was still recording, then looked up into his dark eyes. He was calm, and having spent the morning dealing with humans in various degrees of pain, his serenity was more than welcome. His intensity, though—he gazed at her as though nothing else existed around them, giving her the full extent of his attention, and his gaze didn't move from her face. She felt warmly self-conscious, but tried to dismiss her feelings. Of course he was forthright and direct with her; he was Vulcan. For him, lies were illogical. For Bess, a Betazoid, lies were pointless.

"Can you take me through the sequence of events on your shift?"

His memory had not been affected by his injuries as the ship was compromised, and she appreciated his accuracy as he took her through the timeline. Even his approximations were only a range of a moment or two. He told her that he had not been in the shuttlebay at the time and had reacted to save as many of the crew members as expediently as he could. The explosion had destroyed a portion of the ship's hull, depressurizing and compromising the life-support systems on a handful of decks before safeguards acted, but the commander was unclear as to whether the captain and first officer had perished in their quarters when the explosion had occurred, or whether they had been attempting to reach the lower deck and rescue any survivors at the time of their deaths.

Nancy made a few notes to herself as he concluded his account with the survivors' arrival at the starbase, then glanced back up at him again. While his face was still neutral and impassive, as opposed to the other Vulcans she had met, his expression didn't seem to be a stoic mask. He just looked patient.

Then she saw his fingertip, which was resting against the base of his water glass. His finger was tapping against the base rhythmically, very slowly, almost imperceptibly.

Nancy's gaze went from that back to his dark eyes, suspicion sending a tingle down her spine. She knew, of course, of cases that had seen Romulans posing and passing as Vulcans, and if the commander was indeed a spy, that would go a long way to explaining what had happened on the _Scovill._

According to Leival, his injuries shouldn't be severe enough for her to be seeing such a break in his control. It was a minor detail, but that was what she had made her career finding. She had a reputation as a tenacious, thorough investigator, and she made a note of it.

Sometimes allowing silence in an interview gave a guilty party rope to hang him- or herself, but that didn't always work, and it didn't work with the commander. His gaze remained on her face, but he didn't volunteer any additional information, to absolve himself of guilt or to explain other circumstances.

Then again, a Vulcan wouldn't perceive guilt, only responsibility and culpability.

He was more physically imposing than other Vulcans she had met, too. If he was a Vulcan.

Nancy propped her chin on her hand. "So, Commander," she said, "can you tell me about the assignment the _Scovill_ had just completed?"

"I can," he said. "Commander, I notice that you do not wear any jewelry. Are you in a committed relationship?"

Nancy's eyebrows rose. She would have been offended if he hadn't asked it in such a calm, neutral voice, but that same tingle went down her spine again. "I am single," she said, her own voice even. "May I ask..."

The commander pushed the chair away from their table and stood. "I apologize, Commander; may we continue this interview at another time?"

Nancy stood too. Outwardly he had mastered even that slight fidgeting of his finger, and he appeared impassive again. In his eyes, though...

"Of course," she said, though a part of her was wondering what he would do if she insisted upon completing the interview now. "Until next time, Commander..."

She knew how to spell his name, but she still didn't want to botch the pronunciation of it. She saw the barest hint of a smile on his lips as he realized why she was hesitating. "Most Terrans apparently find it easier to call me 'Ned.'"

"Until next time, then, Ned."

She didn't know if it was her imagination, but his long-legged stride seemed a bit quicker than usual as he headed back toward the medical facilities, leaving her standing alone in the cafe. Nancy made herself a note. He knew something, but perhaps he had found it easier to delay telling her about it.

If he were Romulan, maybe he was going to take the time to get away.

If he were Romulan, though, he could just as easily have lied to her about whatever the mission had been. Unless it was classified—and even that, she could ask her supervising officer to confirm—it would come out anyway.

Nancy bit her lip gently, then headed back to the medical facilities too, her pace slower. For the first time she reluctantly, intentionally projected her thoughts towards Bess, and received a message on her padd a moment later.

She conducted a few more interviews before Bess was able to conclude her own efforts and meet with Nancy. Bess wore a long, flowing tunic with an asymmetric hem, the fabric a smoky greyish-blue, over a pair of synthetic black leather leggings. Her shoes were closed-toed, but a clear panel on top revealed that her toenails were each painted a glitter-specked silver. Nancy hadn't needed to be a telepath to know how George felt about the outfit, but Nancy liked it—for Bess, anyway. She never would have worn it herself. Rolling out of bed and pulling on a jumpsuit identical to the one she had worn the day before was expedient, after all.

While she still looked stylish, though, Bess looked weary; Nancy saw dark circles under her dark eyes, and her welcoming smile wasn't a broad grin this time. "The explosion was terrible," she told Nancy, without preamble. "The crew members who witnessed it, those who attempted to rescue the survivors..."

Nancy nodded.

Bess sighed and brought her hand to her head, gently massaging her temples. "But that's not what you wanted to ask about," she murmured. "As far as I can tell, the commander—Ned? He told you to call him that?—does seem to be Vulcan. Not Romulan. That's what he believes himself to be, anyway. I've never telepathically connected to a Romulan, however, and the mental disciplines might allow them... No." Bess shook her head. "No. I don't sense that kind of duality in him."

But the look she turned on Nancy then was so frankly speculative that Nancy found herself flushing. "What?"

That was when Bess's grin returned. "You like him," she said, her voice quieter, as a concession to Nancy's obvious discomfort.

"I—" _Do not_ , Nancy almost said, before she realized who she was talking to. Bess was already rolling her eyes.

"I won't mention it. But yes, I would be happy to be present at your next interview with him. If only to see how he reacts to _you_."

Nancy blushed again. "You seem overtired," she told Bess, with the same frankness.

Bess sighed. "I am. I need to take a break." She glanced down at a chronometer on her own padd. "I'll record what I sensed and do another session tonight after I've had some time to recover."

"Do you know what they were working on?"

Bess gave her shrugging head-tilt. "I'll make the record as accurate as possible, but I'm not an engineer and many of the terms they were using were unfamiliar to me. I did sense that they felt some urgency and secrecy about the project, that they were hoping for a breakthrough..."

Nancy nodded. "Thank you. Go get some rest. I'm going to check in with Lieutenant Fayne and see what's going on."

Before she headed to her quarters, Bess paused. "That nickname he gave you for himself," she said. "He doesn't let everyone call him that. He..." She frowned slightly, her attention turning inward, on whatever she was sensing. "He's not Romulan, but I understand. When I come back tonight, I'll let you know if I pick up on anything else."

Ned had returned to the medical facility, and was assisting Leival and the doctor again. Nancy told Dr. Fasden that she would return in a few hours to continue her interviews, and promised again that she wouldn't agitate or otherwise hamper his patients' recovery. When she looked over at Ned again, he was standing near Leival—and his gaze was on Nancy. Leival glanced over at Nancy too, then back at Ned.

Both their expressions were impassive.

 _Well_ , Nancy thought to herself, _you'll be honest with me tomorrow. One way or another._

Bess's assertion stuck with her, though. She had never known a Vulcan to develop a crush on anyone. She knew they formed lasting relationships, procreated, provided for their young—but from everything else she had ever heard or been told, that seemed more like a duty to ensure the survival of their species rather than a relationship based on shared emotional attachment. Pairs were advantageous to both parties, to bond families or factions.

Nancy had to admit she was relieved Bess had judged him truly a Vulcan. But that raised a more troubling question: If he was, what could possibly cause him to lapse the way he had?


	2. Chapter 2

Sleeping was difficult that night. George had visited Antlia IV and reported back to both Nancy and Admiral Luuris about the state of the _Scovill_ 's debris. Thankfully the area of Antlia IV affected wasn't populated, but the Starfleet engineers and experts would still be working to eradicate any trace of the radiation or the disturbance.

The engineers and Dr. Fasden didn't know what the lasting effects of the radiation exposure would be on the affected crew members, though. That in itself was frightening.

George had begun recovery procedures on the memory systems she had discovered at the crash scene, and when Nancy finally gave up on getting any more rest, she accessed the correlated recollections Bess had programmed for her.

Her guest accommodations weren't equipped to let her interact with the program, so she rose and found an unoccupied holosuite. The starbase was still bustling during its "night," and Nancy almost found her steps heading toward the medical facilities, but the survivors needed their rest. And Bess wasn't available yet if Nancy wanted to interview Ned again.

Nancy took her padd with her and made a note of all the unfamiliar terminology the engineers used. Thanks to the programming, Nancy was able to tell when the recollection had been unclear, how many of the survivors agreed with the account, what the discrepancies were. Phantom versions of crew members appeared, split off and vanished as the recollections blurred. Nancy recognized plasma coils, an indicator panel, an independent energy source. She couldn't even imagine what would have happened if the device had been pulling energy from the _Scovill_ 's warp engines; she had a feeling they would never have found all the pieces.

After she went through the program four times, making notes of everything that seemed significant, she cross-checked which survivors' accounts she had seen against the others who were shown there. Many hadn't survived, but she saw two who had not yet been interviewed.

Bess had included some notes, after her evening interview. _It was an accident, but those who know what they were doing are either dead or in stasis right now. They feel guilty and scared. They didn't mean for this to happen. But they also suspected it might._

_No one meant to blow up or destroy the ship. It might well be that the chief engineer authorized procedures he knew would be unsafe in an attempt to expedite the experiment, and in that case, the party responsible is beyond any court martial._

The engineers had doubtless kept some sort of record of what they were doing, and if Nancy and George succeeded at finding that account, they could either confirm or deny Bess's beliefs. Or maybe Ned would, in a single conversation.

Nancy frowned. She wished Bess had been there when she had interviewed the commander. Then she could leave the survivors to their recovery.

If the person responsible was already dead, though... those investigations always left Nancy feeling unsettled. A dead person couldn't explain or take responsibility for crimes, but at least assigning the blame somehow would mean blameless survivors wouldn't be going through the scrutiny of a court-martial. In that case, though, if the assignment had been dangerous and death likely, Nancy was of the opinion that the person who had issued those orders should be at least partially culpable.

At oh-six-hundred Nancy had changed clothes and prepared herself for the day, and she met George in the food court area so they could eat breakfast and go over their plans for the morning. George had already checked on the recovery of the _Scovill_ 's computer core and would let Nancy know about her progress on it, she told Nancy as she dug into a cheese and Ktarian-egg omelet.

Nancy's breakfast was a variety of fruit she had never tried before; one chunk of pink fruit had a delicate citrus taste and a grainy, almost pear-like texture. She thoughtfully speared another piece of it.

"What does your gut tell you about this?"

George took a long sip of electrolyte-laden water before responding. "My gut tells me that Starfleet isn't going to accept a simple mistake as the explanation. Not with that number of people lost and injured, not with cataclysmic damage to a relatively new ship. The engineers haven't seen this kind of radiation before; they've heard about it, though." George lowered her voice. "And whatever created it didn't come from that nebula they had just visited. The signature is inconsistent."

Nancy considered that puzzle for a while. When George had departed for the planet again and Nancy returned to the medical facility, Dr. Fasden was already there, bright-eyed and cheerful. Overnight one of the survivors had recovered well enough to be removed from the stasis environment, but she had already been interviewed by Bess, so Nancy couldn't learn anything more from the surviving engineers until her Betazoid assistant woke for the day.

George had grumbled about Bess's absence from their breakfast meeting even though she had seemed glad the other woman wasn't there. George also hadn't seen how thoroughly exhausted Bess had looked the night before, and when Nancy had told her how much work had been accomplished the previous day, George had grudgingly agreed that she might deserve a few more hours' rest.

Leival entered when Nancy was concluding her third fruitless interview of the morning, and only then did Nancy realize that the commander wasn't there. Nancy didn't doubt that George's estimation was correct. Admiral Luuris had wanted Nancy and her team to collect as much evidence as possible. The loss of a starship, even a relatively small exploration craft like the _Scovill_ , wouldn't be shrugged off.

After thanking the ensign she was interviewing for her time, Nancy located the doctor in his private office, consulting a desktop padd. "Dr. Fasden? I'm assuming Lieutenant Commander—um—"

The doctor, a gleam of humor in his eyes, let her twist for a few agonizing seconds before speaking the commander's given name, and Nancy gave a firm, relieved nod. Hearing it aloud made her even more sure she wouldn't be able to say it. "He's been released?"

The doctor paused. "He's—in a quarantine unit. I thought you had interviewed him yesterday?"

"I had. I did. But our interview was cut short, and we had agreed to conclude it today."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible."

Nancy clenched her jaw once, quickly, trying to hide her irritation and failing. "May I ask about the nature of the quarantine? Is it related to the _Scovill_?"

"It is not. It has nothing to do with your investigation."

"Would it be possible to communicate with him if my assistant and I wore biohazard gear?"

Dr. Fasden raised a dark eyebrow. "No," he said, after considering it for a few seconds.

Nancy raised both eyebrows. She remembered that Betazoids were often able to sense thoughts and emotions through other communication methods as well. "Via video or audio feed?"

"No. I'm sorry. He was on the bridge when the accident occurred, so he wasn't a witness to the events—and I cannot allow you to come into contact with him at this time."

"How long before you know?" When Dr. Fasden gave her a blank look, Nancy fought down her irritation again. "Before you know whether he's cured and can be released from quarantine?"

"At least ten days."

"That's unacceptable," Nancy replied immediately, and it was the doctor's turn to raise both eyebrows. "I apologize, Doctor, but the commander seemed in good health yesterday. Contacting him via an indirect method like a video feed—"

Dr. Fasden stood. "Would be inadvisable to the highest degree," he replied, his tone more severe. "Commander, I'm afraid I must insist. I have patients here who need time to recover and the ship will be no less destroyed in ten days' time. If you wish, you may address any further concerns from your supervisor to me directly, and I will tell him what I just told you. I cannot risk the health or safety of anyone in my care just to tell you that what happened on board that ship was a tragedy."

Bess came into the sickbay area soon after, carrying a mug of hot chocolate topped in a cap of whipped cream, and immediately came to Nancy's side. "You were angry enough for me to sense you all the way from my quarters," she commented quietly. "I think I might have learned some interesting new profanities."

Nancy shook her head. "Would you read the doctor and let me know if he was telling me the truth? Something feels—off, about this. Like someone doesn't want me interviewing the commander. Regardless of what Dr. Fasden says, I really don't think Admiral Luuris is going to accept this 'quarantine' explanation at face value."

Bess took a long thoughtful sip of her chocolate. "He's Trill," she pointed out. "It might take some work. His shields are a lot more advanced than yours, and getting in without his being aware of it—unless you don't care about that."

Nancy paused. "I don't want to antagonize him any more than we have to."

Bess nodded. "Fair enough. I'll work on it while I'm talking to the other two patients. So the programming I did yesterday was beneficial for you; I'm glad."

Nancy chuckled. The way Bess could so casually read her thoughts was just a bit disconcerting, even now. "So his shields are better than mine, huh?"

Bess considered. "Yours... are like a thin sheet of paper," she said. "Better than nothing. His are like a thickness of aluminum. Not impossible to breach, but they take a bit more effort and finesse."

"A sheet of paper."

Bess patted her shoulder. "Don't let it get you down. Lieutenant Fayne's, for all her anxiety, are much thinner."

After a midday call to George to see how the core retrieval was going, Nancy couldn't resist any more. She had interviewed the other survivors, most of whom had told her about the rescue efforts, but they were also scientists who hadn't been involved on the project in the shuttlebay. Without the computer logs or access to the only command-level officer left who might tell her what had been going on, she was stuck. She could call Admiral Luuris and let him know about the roadblock, and request him to look into their orders in the process, but she was reluctant to do that.

Idly she interfaced with the starbase's system and typed in a query. The result was startling.

While the medical facilities did include quarantine-ready bays, they had all been converted for use as stasis areas, and the commander wasn't in one. In fact, Nancy had to go through another subroutine and type in his Starfleet identification number to locate his comm badge before she could find him.

She located his comm badge in a small room earmarked for sensitive materials storage, in the heart of the station. It was virtually inaccessible, as the primary means to enter and leave it was apparently transporter beam.

When Nancy glanced up, Bess was already looking over at her, one eyebrow up.

_Anything on the doctor yet?_ Nancy projected to Bess, and Bess glanced down at her padd, wrinkling her nose at the relative sluggishness of verbal communication when she would clearly have loved to project her thoughts back to Nancy in return.

_Not yet, but I can also tell he's on alert. He's tried to probe_ me _a few times! Cheeky bastard._

Despite her mood, Nancy had to smile when she read that message. _Up for some secret mission work later?_

Bess's reply arrived almost before Nancy had finished projecting the thought. _Now who's reading whose mind?_

\--

"Shit. Of _course_ you'd come wearing glitter."

Bess wrinkled her nose at George. "You need your colors done," she declared. "Makeup party in my quarters later."

"Over my dead body."

"Over your dead _fabulous_ body."

"All right," Nancy whispered, shaking her head. Bess had rested for a few hours that evening and was her bright, bubbly self again, which meant George's teasing had become more vicious—and Bess's replies all the more infuriating for her. "You two are as bad as sisters."

George gasped. "Take that back."

"I never had a sister," Bess said, her voice quietly speculative, with that same hint of humor behind it.

The three of them had dressed in inconspicuous outfits—or at least Nancy and George had. The other starbase staff members wore similar basic black jumpsuits with insignia, but many different aliens were also visiting. Bess wore black, but it definitely wasn't basic. "What's the point in wearing clothes if they aren't beautiful?" she had pointed out.

"I don't even see why you had to come along," George grumbled as the three of them made their way toward a Jeffries tube access point.

"Because I need someone to help me figure out what's going on here," Nancy said quietly. "Between the two of you, I have the best defense and offense I could ever want. But I need to know why they're hiding him. I need to know what he knows."

"Far be it from me to turn down anything that involves me crawling half the height of a starbase, but—we could just inspect the computer core once the starbase computer has finished compiling it tomorrow." George swung easily onto the next set of rungs, while Bess eyed the ladder before them with no small amount of distaste.

"No," Bess replied, almost immediately. "Nancy's worried that someone may have wiped the computer banks before we could access them. There's a lot about this that doesn't make sense to her. Plus she has a crush on the commander."

Now it was Nancy's turn to gasp. "Bess!"

Bess tilted her head. "She already knows. I wasn't telling her anything new."

"Just confirming it," George nodded. "Oooh, hurts now that the shoe's on the other foot, eh?"

Nancy scowled in George's direction. "I do not have a crush on him," she said to them both.

"Sure," Bess agreed, her voice clearly skeptical. "You don't. Not even a little bit."

Nancy sighed when George chuckled. "I like it much better when it's one against one. This _two_ against one isn't working for me. Bess, are you getting a read on him? Are you sure we aren't just walking into a trap, or that they've put his comm badge on someone or something else? His location is pretty isolated."

"Good point, Nan," George said, then corrected herself, remembering that they were with Bess. "Commander."

Bess waved her hand. "No need to stand on formality around me; I thought you already knew that. And to answer your question, that shielding I told you about is still in place. Might be part of the shielding they have in that area to keep dangerous materials from harming the residents here. Certain elements and artifacts that have no discernible effect on most Terrans can be devastating to espers."

Nancy tilted her head in acknowledgement. "Or the good doctor knew that I would probably ask you to help me find him."

"Or that. I will say that the little I did get from him today—he is concerned, and that concern wasn't feigned. About what, though, I don't know. It did involve _Ned_ and his safety." Bess's tone ended with what Nancy was sure was a knowing grin.

" _Ned_?" George repeated, a drawling lilt in her voice.

Nancy flushed at the clear intent in the lieutenant's comment. "Please stop," she begged them both.

"Yes, Commander."

When Bess didn't chime in with George, Nancy directed the mental equivalent of a pointed stare at the Betazoid. "What? I'm not actually under your command," she pointed out. "I'm here to offer insights. But yes, I will stop. Since it's embarrassing you so much."

By the time they reached the end of the access tube closest to the commander's location, Bess and George actually seemed to be getting along, or as close to it as they could be—but that detente owed a lot to their joint cause of teasing Nancy over her supposed crush. Bess had trailed off, though; she was pausing every now and then to reevaluate, to make sure they really weren't heading into a trap.

"Nancy," Bess said, when Nancy had her hand on the handle that would let them out. At the sound of her voice, both Nancy and George stopped, George with her hand on the phaser at her hip. "He is there."

"But?" George prompted, at Bess's furrowed brow.

"I don't have a thorough baseline read on him to go from, but—he's different."

"Different how?" Nancy asked, her heart speeding up a little. "Guilty, upset, conflicted?"

Bess shook her head slowly, then brought her dark eyes up to meet Nancy's. Their exertions had been long, and her temples glowed faintly with sweat. Her expression was distant. "I can't get a good read on him through the shields," she said. "I—I don't have a good feeling about this."

Nancy bit her lip gently. "If we get close enough and the circumstances warrant it, we can try to reach him through his comm badge," she temporized. "Sound good?"

Bess gave her that little head-tilt again. "Did you forget who you were talking to?" she murmured, her tone almost amused. "I know you have no such intention. But yes."

"As much as I hate to say it," George said, "and I really _do_ hate to say it, I agree with Bess. Your safety is of the utmost importance, Commander."

"And that's why I brought the two of you," Nancy pointed out lightly. "So let's get on with this."

The only access to the room where he was— _being_ _held_ , Nancy almost thought of it, but they had no proof of that—was through a port that would be barely large enough to admit him. Nancy took off the small pack she had brought with her and took out her tricorder, navigating to the subroutines meant to short-circuit security safeguards. She had brought a small breathing apparatus with her as well, in the event he really was in a legitimate quarantine situation and exposure to the same air he breathed could harm her. "Do I need this?" Nancy asked Bess quietly; the telepath's comments had decreased the closer they came to the cell, as she tried to focus her thoughts on it.

Bess paused, then shook her head. "Something's wrong," she said softly, and a prickle went up Nancy's spine in response.

"Yes, something is," Nancy pointed out. "And we're here to find out what it is."

It took her five minutes of careful painstaking work to break through the locks. When she did, Nancy took a deep breath. "Okay," she said quietly.

"Let me go in first," George spoke up. "If he poses a security risk..."

Both Nancy and George looked at Bess, who pursed her lips. Her dark eyes were filled with something that almost looked like anguish. "He's... oh, gods. He's hurting and trying to stop it. Nancy..."

That made the decision for her. Nancy grasped the handle and pulled open the small access door, and was immediately aware of the sound of a quiet warning chime.

The small room had been outfitted with a biobed, and Nancy saw a padd on it, but Ned wasn't on the bed. He was standing near the access port, and as soon as her gaze lit on his face, it was locked to his. His dark eyes were fixed with furious power on hers.

She understood, now. She could feel what Bess had been talking about. He was hurting. And she—

She didn't understand it, but she was afraid.

Carefully she brought her feet down to touch the floor, reminding herself that Bess and George were just behind her, and if he tried anything they would get her out as quickly as they could. _Commander,_ she tried to say, but the word stuck in her throat.

He took a step toward her, and how was it that she could know exactly how it would feel if his skin touched hers? How could she? Her heart was beating too fast, and he hadn't spoken—

Not audibly, anyway.

_Nancy._

Dimly she heard, but didn't register, the sound of a transporter beam nearby. Ned took a step toward her, reaching for her, but it didn't matter, not when his voice was in her head, not when he—

" _Commander_ ," Dr. Fasden said, his voice stern with barely controlled panic and disapproval. Ned took a step back, but it was small and reluctant; his dark eyes flashed as he glanced from Nancy to the doctor, but his gaze returned to her almost immediately. "Come with me _at once_." He grasped her wrist, tugging her back toward the portal through which she had entered, and tapped his comm badge. "Chief Q'rl, lock onto my signal. Four to beam directly to sickbay."

Before the beam swept her up, she found that without her will or direction, her arm was rising, her hand reaching for Ned's.

As she materialized in the sickbay, Dr. Fasden's fingers still locked around her wrist, Nancy began to hyperventilate. "What—what is it, what—" she gasped out, looking around. Bess and George were nearby too.

"I have them," Dr. Fasden told Leival as he marched Nancy into his office. The rest of her team followed. Leival gave Dr. Fasden a serene nod, but her gaze locked onto Nancy's for a moment.

Nancy's sight was blurring with sudden inexplicable tears. She couldn't seem to marshal her thoughts, not at all—and then that soft hum of Bess's mental presence rose a little, and Nancy was able to relax slightly.

"I _told you_ ," Dr. Fasden said angrily. "I told you he was ill. Now he'll need to be relocated, all because you couldn't take no for an answer..."

"What's his illness?" Nancy demanded, crossing her arms. "What is it that you don't want him telling us?"

Dr. Fasden blinked at her. "His illness is none of your concern, and it's under control. Or it would have been," he muttered, glancing down at his tricorder as he scanned her. Then he peered into her eyes. "You've put him at risk."

"How?"

Dr. Fasden made an irritated noise. "I know it had to take work and effort for you to locate him and then reach him in that section of the base—and _without_ the transporter chief's help, I might add—and you can ask that? At least he didn't touch you."

Nancy sniffled, her arms crossed under her breasts. "Is that how it's transmitted? By touch?"

"Yes," Dr. Fasden said grudgingly. "By touch. For the last time, Commander, you cannot interview him until the quarantine period is over. Have I made myself clear?"

Nancy nodded. Her next blink sent a pair of tears down her cheeks, and she brushed them away impatiently. "Yes. I understand."


	3. Chapter 3

The walk back to their quarters was quiet. Nancy felt keyed up, and alternating waves of hot and cold swept over her. She blamed it on the stress of the last few minutes and her insomnia the night before. A full night of rest would do her a world of good. But she was lost in her thoughts, and George asked her more than once when they would be meeting for breakfast and to discuss their plans for the day.

Alone in her quarters, Nancy took a quick shower, scrubbing her arms carefully, and changed into a comfortable tank top and pair of shorts. Everything about her cabin's climate was customizable, and so she reduced the room's temperature until it felt chilly, then slipped under the blanket.

Her mind wouldn't stop racing. If he had infected her with whatever he had... but she couldn't believe that. If she was sick—but if he held the key to the accident on the _Scovill_ , she could spend the next few days focusing on the ship's wreckage and the rebuild on the computer logs, waiting until he recovered.

His eyes. Oh God, his eyes. She had felt like he was looking _into_ her.

With a frustrated sigh, Nancy turned her head so she could view a segment of the starfield visible through her room's window.

She couldn't relax. She just couldn't relax. She needed warm tea, maybe milk... or maybe to go run around the starbase's common areas until she was tired out. She just wanted to sleep.

_Alone._

She was alone. She had been alone for a long time, since she had left the Academy and Earth behind. George had been her companion for a long time, and while she had indulged in the occasional brief romances with people she met both shipside and planetside, they had never lasted long.

She was alone, so alone; her love had been lost...

Nancy made a soft noise, her brow furrowing. She didn't understand what she was feeling; it didn't make any sense. Her longest relationship had been back at the Academy, and she supposed she could consider Frank her first love, but she had been so young, and he had been young too. The Academy had been incredibly exciting, and she had been swept up in all the promise the world had to offer. He had, too. Losing touch with Frank hadn't broken her heart. None of the men she had dated ever had, and her career never gave her much time to dwell on it.

Not until tonight.

Nancy turned onto her side, her arms wrapped around her torso. Home, love, safety. Peace. She just wanted peace. She just wanted the turmoil in her mind to quiet. She just wanted—

She saw those intense dark eyes again, and squeezed her own tight shut, trying to focus on anything else. He was out of her reach for the next week and a half. That would give her the time to prove her case against the chief engineer, or whichever member of his team had made that fatal error.

Nancy had been restlessly twisting and turning, trying to force herself to relax and sleep, for nearly an hour when her door chimes sounded. For a second she felt disoriented, before she placed those musical tones.

With a muffled groan, she sat up and shoved her red-gold hair out of her face. "Come in," she called.

When the door opened, Nancy wasn't entirely unsurprised to see Bess enter her cabin. "Computer, one-quarter lights," Nancy ordered, and they rose to a dim glow, providing enough light to see Bess's face without breaking the illusion that she would ever get any sleep.

Immediately Bess went over to Nancy's replicator and ordered something with a few modifications, then brought it over to her. Nancy took a tentative first sip, letting the warm liquid pool on her tongue; it tasted like mildly sweet, cinnamon-dusted milk, but with an oddly soothing aftertaste.

"It might help," Bess said quietly. "I needed to tell you I'm sorry."

Nancy swallowed another sip of the liquid. "About what?"

"When I was teasing you earlier. I didn't understand the circumstances." She paused for a moment, then retrieved the chair at the room's desk and pulled it over to her bedside. "I didn't want to say anything earlier, but he touched you."

Nancy looked up at Bess, a small frown creasing the area between her brows. "It... barely," she finished lamely, knowing that Bess would sense her lie if she attempted it. It hadn't been a question, after all. "For an instant. Not long enough—"

Bess sighed. "It was long enough," she murmured. "Can you tell me what you two talked about during your interview yesterday?"

Nancy shrugged, taking another sip as she gathered her thoughts. "What he did on that last shift, the rescue efforts. He..." She shook her head.

"He acted strangely at the end of it," Bess picked up the story when Nancy trailed off, and Nancy frowned but she didn't bother erecting her flimsy and apparently worthless shields, just let Bess draw the thoughts from her and speak them aloud in that soft, almost musical voice of hers. "That's why you suspected he was hiding something. He—he actually asked you whether you were single." Bess's eyes widened as she gazed at Nancy. "And the fidgeting. Oh."

Nancy looked down at her nearly-finished mug. "I thought it was misdirection," she said. "That he was trying to distract me from the question I was asking about the ship's assignment."

Bess heaved a long sigh, then. "I didn't realize it," she said softly. "I am sorry, Nancy."

"About what?"

Bess looked down at her own emptied mug. "I've met a few Vulcans before, but I've never treated one," she admitted. "Despite their outward appearance, they are deeply passionate, very emotional people who have learned to control their feelings and behavior. It's admirable, the amount of mental discipline they have; the way they choose to spend it is their own affair.

"When we beamed back to sickbay tonight and Leival was there, I caught an unguarded thought from her, a word I didn't understand. The—the _condition,_ Ned's suffering from. I went back to speak to her, and it took a while to get her to talk to me, but...

"He wasn't trying to distract you. He was flirting with you."

" _Flirting_?" Nancy lowered her mug to her lap again, her mouth dropping open. "He's _Vulcan_ , Bess."

Bess nodded. "He is. But every seven or so years of a postpubescent Vulcan's life, they go through _pon farr._ It's... I suppose the Terran term might be something close to _hot? Heat_?"

Nancy's eyes widened. She was speechless.

"I know. I was just as surprised as you are. I was under the mistaken impression that they were matched up by ultra-logical computers somewhere and had brief, unsatisfying sex only when absolutely necessary, with the distaste of prudish Terran royalty." Bess wrinkled her nose. "That, or they eliminated the need for any physical copulation by just cloning themselves."

"So..." Nancy spoke slowly, still trying to come to terms with what Bess was telling her. "When he started flirting with me, he excused himself because it was inappropriate?"

Bess nodded. "And then I'm sure he went to Leival and explained the situation to her, or gave her some excuse she saw through. Leival was very reluctant to discuss it; Vulcans consider it a private matter, but another Vulcan would understand, and clearly Dr. Fasden is also at least partially aware of what's going on."

"That he's... in heat. Or at the least... that something's going on with him."

Bess nodded.

"So they need to keep him isolated for the next ten days, until he's over it?"

Bess looked down at her mug again, then back up at Nancy. She went to the replicator and came back with another mug of hot chocolate for herself before she continued. "It's not quite that simple," she said. "After I spoke to Leival, I did a little research. Apparently there are three ways he can 'get through' it. He can choose a mate and copulate; he can engage in intense meditation to control the emotions and impulses he's feeling."

"You said three ways," Nancy said, her voice strangely even. The whole thing felt surreal, like some insane dream she was having.

"If his chosen mate prefers another—he will fight that challenger to the death."

Nancy took a deep breath. "That doesn't make sense," she said, rising from the bed to pace. "Vulcans—they aren't like that. They're calm, stoic, rational; they don't fight to the death. And even if he is 'in heat,' that's not transferrable..."

" _Pon farr_ is transferrable when you're dealing with a touch telepath," Bess said quietly. "Which he is. That feeling you have right now, that buzzing just under your skin, that restlessness? The thoughts that don't make any sense? Those are his. Nancy—he's chosen you."

Nancy stopped in her pacing to face Bess, her eyes wide with dismay. "Computer, full lights," she said impatiently, hoping that as soon as the lights came up she would see Bess grinning at her, delighted that she had pulled one over on her. The expression Bess wore was of sympathy and concern, though, and Nancy's heart skipped an anxious beat.

"He can't have chosen me."

"The way I understand it, under any other circumstances he wouldn't have acted on the sexual attraction between you. He touched you at that earlier conversation, didn't he? That's why you were so insistent that we find him tonight?"

Nancy shook her head. "No. I had been told that shaking hands with Vulcans is considered rude and we didn't touch, I can promise you that. He and I hadn't come into contact until tonight."

Bess tilted her head, considering. "So you felt sexually attracted to him at that first meeting, too."

Nancy glanced down, then forced herself to meet Bess's eyes again. She didn't bother responding; she didn't need to.

Bess raised her eyebrows, then took a long sip of cocoa.

"So the intense meditation option is what he was trying out. That's why he needed to be alone."

Bess nodded. "But once he chose you, that was out. Now his options are either having sex with you or fighting a rival to the death for you."

Nancy flushed again. "But he's in isolation. Can't he..."

Bess rose from the bed too, shaking her head. "No. He's extremely intelligent and very strong and now he's obsessed with you, for as long as this lasts. We need to tell Dr. Fasden, but no matter where they put him, he's going to get out. He's going to do everything he can to come to you. If you nominate a champion for yourself..."

Nancy shook her head. "I don't understand," she said quietly, her voice almost a moan. "Bess, it just doesn't make any _sense_."

Bess shrugged. "They are a people who have done everything they could to purge themselves of emotion, _all_ emotion," she said. "It makes sense that any emotional response they had, in that state, would be extreme. Seven years of what is, in effect, pent-up sexual frustration and desire and longing. I can't imagine being the focus of that. It sounds intense."

"The only choice I have is to sleep with him or ask him to fight someone to the death."

"Apparently."

Nancy let out her breath in a long exasperated sigh. That buzzing, humming awareness she felt under her skin hadn't lessened. "Would he..."

Bess read the drift of her thoughts, and her dark eyes widened. "Force you? I think that in this state he would interpret a refusal as a challenge. For all the logic in his life, when it comes to this... he possesses very little."

"What if we took the runabout and... took him home? Surely they know how to—to deal with this, back on Vulcan."

"I'm sure they do," Bess said calmly. "But the runabout won't be able to get to Vulcan before he's succumbed to _plak tow_."

"And what's that?" Nancy said, fighting to keep the panic out of her voice.

"Blood fever," Bess said. "He touched you. He's decided on you and he's bonding with you. He will become increasingly irrational, instinct-driven, obsessive. If you were on the runabout, especially alone with him... he would do everything he could, to be with you."

"And if I weren't on the ship?"

"He would take control of it and do his best to find you," Bess said immediately. "I wish I could tell you there's another way. I do know that if you challenge him, there are apparently ways around his killing or being killed. If he perceives that he has vanquished the challenger, even briefly, that would be enough to break the fever."

Bess lapsed into silence again, and Nancy resumed her pacing, running her fingers through her hair. "Doesn't he have a family back on Vulcan? A wife? He's well past puberty..."

"I checked his file. His wife died four years ago. He wouldn't be cheating with you, if that's what you're worried about."

"You checked his file?"

Bess gave that shrugging head-tilt again. "I felt bad for teasing you when this wasn't your fault, and I was curious myself. Believe me, it took _a lot_ of research for me to find out what I did. Leival definitely didn't want to talk about it. Federation medical journals are sketchy on the topic, but I found a bit in some of the archives."

Nancy began pacing again, flushing as she considered. The easiest thing for her to do would be to find him and sleep with him—but everything in her recoiled at the thought. She wasn't a stranger to immediate sexual attraction, but what they were talking about was more than a casual fling.

"You said 'get through,'" Nancy said softly.

"Yes," Bess said with a nod. "If the fever isn't broken, the insanity will kill him."

Nancy took the few steps back to the bed and sank onto it, shaking her head. "In how long?"

"About an Earth week," Bess said softly.

"So there's time."

Bess straightened as she caught the drift of Nancy's thoughts. "That's... dangerous," she said, but Nancy could tell she was thinking about it. "He's already becoming unstable. Spending time with him—he could easily overpower you."

"He could," Nancy agreed slowly. "But Vulcans can be stunned, and if you were monitoring..."

Bess shook her head. "If I could sense intention, I might be able to head it off—but he could meld with you regardless of your own desire, or otherwise injure you. I hate to agree with your assistant's overcautiousness, but what you're thinking about doing..."

Nancy looked down at her hands. "I did this," she pointed out. "We did this."

Bess's eyes widened. "Nancy, he's influencing you," she told her. "I can feel it..."

Nancy's heart pounded at the dismay in Bess's eyes. Her hands were trembling faintly, and that same panic she had felt earlier was rising in her again. "And it won't stop, will it," she whispered.

Bess looked down at her cooling mug of cocoa. "I could ask Dr. Fasden if putting him in stasis would help," she said. "Especially once he knows that you've been infected as well."

After entreating her to try to get some rest, a plea both Nancy and Bess knew was impossible, Bess returned to her quarters and Nancy returned to her bed, but she felt even farther from sleep than she had been before. She had no way to know if her thoughts were her own.

But the idea persisted. She had a week, and she could find someone who would agree to be her champion or some other way to dupe him into breaking the blood fever. Or she could get to know him and let herself decide if the alternative was even worth considering.

Several times that night, after she had fallen into an uneasy slumber, she woke to find herself upright and walking towards the door to the outside corridor. She knew that regardless of where Dr. Fasden had moved him, she would be able to find him. He would call her to him. He was already trying.

The interruptions meant that a night of little sleep on top of a night of slightly more sleep had left her feeling disconnected from what was going on around her. Bess was a little tired, but Nancy could tell she was also worried about her; George was focused on reassembling the logs, and Nancy didn't see any reason to worry her with everything Bess had told her the night before. It still felt like a dream.

She would have believed it truly was a dream, if that buzzing beneath her skin hadn't gone up a notch in intensity.

After the three of them met for a noonday meal, Nancy found her attention wandering again, found her steps gravitating toward the hallway, toward the western side of the station. She was relieved when George told her that the crew logs had been recovered; she was still working on the engineering ones.

To give herself space to work, Nancy managed to claim a holosuite and pull up the logs there. She sipped from a mug of stimulant-laced tea as she had the computer scan the logs for key words like "risk," "danger," "project," and "secret." She was most interested in the captain's log entries, since he was the person most likely to have discussed their orders.

But Ned's logs were there, too.

She transferred those to her padd as the computer worked on finding patterns and explanations for her, as she listened to the captain discuss the crew matters of the day and his own reactions. His log from six weeks earlier indicated his misgivings about their current assignment, but Nancy was frustrated when he didn't elaborate on exactly what it was, just that a high-level communique had come in on the previous stardate.

That was a clue. Nancy made a note of it.

Ned's logs were sufficient, concise, and to the point. He didn't use his log the way some officers did, as a record of his own feelings and judgements. He made note of any inconsistencies and problems that arose during his shifts on-duty, and of his own findings as they explored relatively uncharted space, but his personality only came through in rare brief glimpses.

Nancy had pulled up the captain's log from the stardate in question when a shudder passed over her. She was seated on the floor in the holosuite with a virtual map of the logs around her, connected by shimmering color-coded strings indicating their relationship and correlations. Her legs were crossed in front of her, and she was feeling thirsty—but in that moment, she knew without understanding or caring how. Ned was close to her. He was approaching her.

Bess. Nancy remembered distantly that she should probably let Bess know...

She moved slowly, like a sleepwalker, as she carefully rose to her feet. "Computer, unlock door," she ordered, turning to face the door. Her heart was pounding.

_This is a mistake. He can easily overpower you._

But he wouldn't. She was sure of that.

By the time the doors parted, Nancy's heart was pounding so hard that her entire body seemed to vibrate with it. She could feel it all the way down into her fingertips and toes, down to her heart, her awareness of him; when that tingling centered at the join of her thighs, she flushed.

He stepped into the holosuite, his dark eyes burning with that same intensity even now, and she couldn't look away from him. Ned walked forward until the doors closed behind him; she saw fresh green-tinged bruises on his knuckles and knew that he had spent the previous night holding himself back.

That almost-irresistible call had come through to her even when he had been _holding himself back_. She couldn't imagine what would have happened if he had been actively trying to draw her to him.

"Computer, lock doors," he said, his voice low and calm, and it was easy to believe that Bess had been exaggerating or misunderstanding. _Blood fever._ He did seem to be flushed, but he wasn't acting like he was going to just attack her...

The computer complied with his command. His fingers were trembling slightly. So were hers.

Her alarm felt distant, inconsequential.

"I propose _koon-ut-so'lik_ ," he said, taking another step toward her. "I desire you as my mate. Nancy Drew."

" _Koon-ut-so'lik_ ," she repeated slowly, watching him approach her. Distantly she was aware of some muffled shouting from outside the holosuite, the dull sound of a fist pounding against the door. "What does it mean?"

"That I desire to be wed," he said, and now he was almost close enough to touch her, in that strange holographic constellation of recorded stars. "To you."

"But how can you?" she asked him, her voice not unkind. "You don't know me. Is it—love at first sight?"

"I desire you. That is the only truth."

"But I cannot wed someone I don't know."

"So you reject me," he said, and his voice had been calm. Had been. The pounding on the door was growing louder. "You have another."

Nancy shook her head. "I have no other, and I'm not rejecting you. I—"

"So you accept me."

"I can't. Not—not until I know you."

"But you will know me. You will know me in every sense."

The room was too warm. She was finding it so terribly difficult to breathe slowly, to focus, to concentrate. She could sense his rage and his desire, and they were all she could feel.

He raised his hand, his index and middle fingers pressed side-by-side, his gaze still locked to hers. "You will know me," he repeated, his voice quieter. "And the loneliness will vanish."

Her lips parted slightly as she glanced down at his hand, her own hand rising in response. "I," she whispered, but her awareness of him left her delirious. Lost. "I cannot..."

Their fingers had almost met when the holosuite's doors slid open, and then he grasped her wrist, turning to place himself between her and whoever had just entered. At the contact Nancy tried desperately to catch her breath. She was fighting it, but she knew that her strength and will weren't enough to withstand his. Not for long.

Soon she would want to drown.

Four security officers entered, phasers drawn. George stood behind them, and Bess too, her dark eyes wide with concern. "Commander," the lead security officer said, looking at Ned. "You need to come with us, for your safety."

For a second she wondered why they hadn't simply locked onto his comm badge and beamed him out of the holosuite, but she realized. He had left his comm badge behind—

Her skin was burning up, her heart pounding, and she wanted to get out. She wanted to be free. Alone together. The runabout—

_He was in her head_.

She couldn't muster the strength or concentration to raise her flimsy, pointless shields. He was a Starfleet officer, he wasn't an enemy, but he was physically imposing and strong and not thinking clearly.

She carried multiple weapons on her person, but her dominant hand was in his iron grip—and he was also aware that she had weapons, because she knew.

"Commander?"

_They'll stun you. They'll take you._

The bellow he released made her instinctually shrink back, and the security officers recoiled too. Bess came around them, her gaze on Nancy's face, and then she looked at Ned.

Bess pronounced his true name, and he directed his gaze toward her. Nancy knew even without seeing it that his expression was clearly suspicious. "It's all right. We aren't here to take her from you. She isn't ready."

His fingers tightened on Nancy. When he realized he was hurting her, he lessened the pressure a little, but she could still feel her heartbeat in the compressed veins just beneath the delicate skin of her wrist.

"Nancy," Bess said softly.

Nancy took a deep breath. "Ned," she murmured, taking a step forward so she was beside him, and he turned to look at her. His dark eyes were intense and full of alarm, his face flushed, his jaw clenched. He was panting and he looked enraged. "Ned. Go with them now and I will come to you."

_They wish to take you. I cannot allow that._

Nancy could feel that rage building again. She reached up and steeled herself before she touched his cheek; his response to her touch was immediate. The desire rose again, and she could feel it coursing through her. _I will come to you. I swear I will come to you. Please_. She projected the words as clearly as she could.

When Ned reached up and touched her cheek in return, Nancy could hear Bess suck in a swift dismayed breath. His fingertips brushed her cheekbone, his thumb at her chin, and the sensation that she alone occupied the center of his world returned to her. He could comb through every part of her with his mind; he could meld with her as they stood locked together and no one would dare part them and risk the consequences—

She managed to form a single gasped word. _Please_.

Ned clenched his jaw again, then took a slow, clearly reluctant step back. His hand was still locked around her wrist, but each dropped the palm cupping the other's cheek. "Because you wish it," he said, but he spoke it through gritted teeth, like it was taking all his strength to obey. "I will leave you, for now."

Leival was behind the group, and when he slowly released Nancy's hand, Leival took a step forward and began to guide him away. Despite the danger she could feel she was in, Nancy still had to fight _not_ to follow him. The urgency ebbed slightly, but it was still there, pounding through her like a second frantic heartbeat. All of her wished to obey him. All of her longed to feel his touch again.

_Come to me._

_Yes._

Leival administered a hypospray, guiding Ned to a portable biobed just outside. As soon as it took effect and he was no longer in her sight, Nancy slumped like a puppet whose strings had just been cut. Her knees buckled and her sight blurred with tears. The colored holographic strings suspended around her became halos of winking light.

"Commander," George said, at the same time Bess said Nancy's name. The security officers had departed with Leival and Ned, and the holosuite's doors shut obediently behind Bess and George, leaving the three of them alone.

Nancy let out her breath in a long sigh edged in a sob. When she finally mustered the strength to open her eyes, Bess and George were kneeling in front of her, each of them gazing at her with obvious concern.

George was the first to speak. "What the hell is going on?" she demanded. "I get a frantic comm call that you're in danger—from him? What happened?"

Bess sighed, and when Nancy gave her a small nod, she looked over at Bess. "He's going through blood fever," Bess said quietly. "He's become fixated on Nancy and he won't recover until she accepts him or denies him."

"But he _just_ met you!" George said incredulously, glancing between Bess and Nancy. "The doctor's treating him for it, right?"

Bess shook her head. "That _is_ the treatment," she said softly.

"So you were just playing along." George's face grew a little pale. "Weren't you?"

Bess answered when Nancy didn't. "No," she said softly. "She's not just playing along."

George swallowed hard. "So you're compromised."

Nancy's voice was rusty when she finally used it. "Yes," she admitted. "Take the lead on the investigation. I'll assist you while I'm able. But you have to—to interview him. Take my files."

Nancy's padd was on the floor; she flushed as she realized Ned's log files were still pulled up on it. George picked it up, though, and gave Nancy a brisk nod before she pulled herself to her feet.

"I didn't mean for this to happen," Nancy said softly. "I never meant for this to happen."

"I know you didn't," George said, her tone just a little gentler. "Why didn't you just tell him 'no'?"

"Because a refusal provokes a fight to the death," Bess explained, still gazing with concern at Nancy. Nancy could feel her touch at the edge of her mind, barely, as she tried to assess Nancy's mental state.

"With _her_?"

"With her or whatever champion she chooses." Bess glanced up at George briefly. "It's not simple. Until it's resolved, he won't be able to think clearly or focus on anything other than this, so unless you can find out what happened without him..."

"We're stuck," George sighed. "All right."

Nancy swallowed. "Here. I'd already begun the program to find the connection between the log entries. The captain made an entry when he received the orders, and I was pulling that up..."

Bess brought Nancy a mug of the same calming milky tea she had given her the night before, and stayed with the two of them as they talked through the clues and evidence they had so far. As they worked, Bess finished programming the last of the survivor witness accounts, and they were able to watch the interactive combined version.

On the fifth time through it, Nancy was able to feel it, and Bess glanced over at her immediately in response. Ned was waking up, wherever they had taken him. She took a deep breath. "George, what does it look like to you?"

George paused the simulation, then walked over to the large piece of equipment in the middle of the floor. It was uncanny, the similarity to a dream; the faces of the virtual crew members were a composite of the engineers' memories, and their expressions were sometimes generally bland, sometimes blank. Padd screens and displays were only partially in focus, only sometimes legible. Some bodies were more solid than others, and at the outskirts, faint twins flickered and vanished like sensor echoes.

And he _called_ to her.

Nancy took a deep breath she meant to be calming, but the same damned flush rose over her again.

"It reminds me of the equipment in that lab we found on the planet near Gravesworld," George said, touching an insubstantial display panel. "The lab where they were doing experiments on half-decayed transitional matter. There was an explosion there too..."

Nancy nodded. Bess rose and returned a moment later with a new glass; this one was filled to the brim with ice and a pale blue liquid, and Nancy gulped it down gratefully. Any sedation would only hold them so long, and stasis would delay the inevitable. She was infected, and she was sure that infection wouldn't lessen if they were separated, by space or by medical means.

"Had they recovered that matter from a nebula?" Nancy asked a moment later.

George was furrowing her brow, but when she looked back at Nancy, she blanched. "All right. Go get some rest. I'll do some more research and let you know what I find; soon the computer's core should be mostly salvaged."

If they were lucky, George would discover the cause of the explosion, and the party at fault, without Ned's help.

Bess escorted Nancy from the holosuite as George bent over the padd, her fingers flying. She was wholly engrossed again. Nancy felt jittery and distracted, and the drink had only provided temporary relief from the heat.

"Nancy..."

"The longer this goes on the worse it will be," Nancy said, and Bess nodded.

"It will."

"I need to see him."

"Whatever precautions are put in place," Bess began, her voice a warning.

"Won't do much, I know."

"He's already strong, and like this..."

"I know."

Bess sighed. "All right. I'm sure Dr. Fasden won't be happy to see me, but I'll go talk to him and Leival. Please stay in your quarters. I know you don't want to, but I'll also know if you leave them."


	4. Chapter 4

Waiting for Bess to return was pure torture. Nancy was able to access her casefiles through her room's standard padd unit, but she couldn't focus, couldn't concentrate. She lowered the room's temperature three times, put on a tank top and shorts, scooped her hair into a loose bun. Every bit of her skin felt oversensitized. The walls felt like they were closing in.

Transitional matter. She had heard of it being handled safely with use of a subwarp field.

In vain she tried to connect any other ideas to that one, but soon enough she was pacing again, and her every glance at the door made her heart beat faster.

_Come to me._

And she would know him. She would know all of him.

Nancy had just thoroughly doused her face with ice-cold water for the fifth time when Bess reentered Nancy's quarters. "Okay," she said. "They're going to tranquilize him, and put a monitor on you, and I'm going to be in the room. If you want to see him. If he becomes a risk, if your physical response threatens your well-being, if I sense that... if I sense that an issue of consent or physical danger has arisen, you leave. Immediately. What he was doing with you earlier, though, Nancy—he was attempting to meld. And in the meld, from all I've been told, the stronger personality can overcome the weaker one easily. He could compel you, persuade you. And your judgement is already impaired..."

"Can we go now?"

Dr. Fasden hadn't gone to the trouble of burying Ned in the bowels of the starbase this time. Bess directed her to a room near the medical facilities, but before she was allowed to see Ned, Nancy had to endure baseline medical scans and the attachment of a monitor. Dr. Fasden clucked over her elevated heart rate, temperature, and seratonin levels. "If you had just listened to me," he muttered. "We wouldn't be going through this now. In case my objection to this situation isn't clear—"

"It is clear, believe me," Bess replied. "Clear and noted. May I have the hypospray?"

Nancy hadn't changed into her standard-issue jumpsuit again, she had been so impatient to see him. When they walked into the room, the lights were low and soft music was playing, doubtless in an attempt to keep him calm. Ned was seated in a straightbacked chair—but seated wasn't quite the word. He was also bound to it, with imposing thick cuffs.

The room was devoid of other furniture, just two additional straightback chairs. Bess nodded to the two security staff members who were posted right outside the room, then stepped forward so it closed behind them.

As soon as she could see his eyes, Nancy was gazing at him. She reminded herself about the monitor, that if her reaction to him was too strong it would separate them prematurely; she took a breath, stepping toward him, and saw his fingers flex.

"Nancy," he said, his voice low and intense, and she trembled in response.

"I told you I would come," she replied quietly. "And I have. But I cannot accept you or refuse you until I know you, and I don't. Not yet." Without looking, she grasped the chair and pushed it toward him; she heard the warning sound Bess made, but she ignored it.

When she sat down near him, Ned's fingers flexed again. "Then let me show you," he said, his dark-eyed gaze locked to hers. "Touch me as you did before. I will show you."

Nancy's own fingers flexed. "Can we not—talk?"

"What could I say that would compel you?" he replied, and the tension in his voice was rising. "I can only show you what I am."

He lapsed into silence, and the cuffs made ominous creaking sounds as he flexed his fists. "Do you wish me to prove myself? I will fight anyone to prove myself a worthy mate. What do you require of me?"

"Please," she whispered, leaning forward. "Calm down."

He struggled against the cuffs holding him again, and she knew that he would either break free or hurt himself in the process. "Please, Ned," she said again. "Please. Don't fight anyone, for me."

Ned stopped and gazed at her again, going still. "If you do not wish to challenge," he said, "then do you accept me?"

Even though Nancy knew that Bess could read her thoughts without trying, she still swallowed and reached for him, touching his cheek. Ned released a long pleased sigh, his dark eyes hooded. Very lightly, very slowly, he moved his face so she was stroking his skin with her palm.

_I do not know what you ask of me,_ she projected to him, hoping that he could hear her so she wouldn't have to say the words aloud. _I do not know if you love. I know that I feel attracted to you, but that is not what love is, or if you only—if you only desire my body. If love is not what you want of me._

Ned waited a moment before he replied. _Free my hands. I will show you._

_I..._

He sensed her reluctance and turned his head again, his lips brushing her palm in the faintest kiss, and Nancy's lashes fluttered down.

_My mind to your mind,_ she felt him think. _My thoughts to your thoughts._

Everything around her fell away. She was left in the beating breathing heart with him, with him alone.

His wife had not been a companion to him. His career had been in Starfleet and hers planetside, and their time together had been determined by their mating urges, nothing more. He had loved her in his way, but that love had been tempered by fear. He had been with her a handful of times, and it was easier to live without her.

But he had loved her, and that had been enough. To know that someone else in the universe was bound to him, and he to her. He had not been truly alone while they had been joined, for the length of their marriage. Even with a span of light-years between them, she had been there.

And she wasn't, not now, not anymore. Her _katra_ , her soul, endured on Vulcan, but they were parted. He was alone.

Nancy didn't know if what he was feeling now was what he felt all the time, or if the chemical imbalance he was going through had made it seem worse. But he was hurting, alone. When Nancy had introduced herself to him and they had met for the first time, he had been in the initial stages of _pon farr_ , but that had only made him more sensitive to and aware of his own feelings.

About a year after his wife's sudden death, his ship had been assigned to transport Nancy and George to a starbase. Ned had seen her then, a few times, but Nancy had been focused on her case and it would have been inappropriate and illogical for him to take the opportunity to socialize with her, as he had his own duties. They had never even been introduced to each other. He had noticed her regardless, and he had pulled up her service file soon after. What he had read there had confirmed his impression of her. She was rational, dedicated, and valued her duty. She was single and young. And deep down, where he would never consciously admit it, he found her beautiful.

Vulcans didn't believe in love at first sight. Desire was an emotion, and thus a weakness.

And he was burning with it now.

He felt nothing beyond it. He needed her.

He had decided that he would overcome his _pon farr_ this time through meditation, and had told the doctor that he needed to be kept isolated for the length of it. He had not wanted this; he had understood that what he was feeling for her would only frighten her, and it would be easier to go through the next seven years without the complication—

And then she had come to him.

He had devoted his life to exploration and discovery. Joining Starfleet hadn't been all that unusual; other Vulcans joined Starfleet and served capably on their vessels. He was private, and he kept himself under control. He had kept himself under control as much as he could, even with his mate, the mate who had been chosen for him when he was only a child.

But this, what he had done, it was reckless, and other Vulcans would judge him and find him wanting for it. Especially to those Vulcans who never left the homeworld, humans were seen as passionate, irrational creatures, fragile and almost juvenile, impulsive and foolish and often corrupted by their desires. Nancy might be a rational, logical investigator, but she was still a human. Lesser. It was a Vulcan prejudice.

He didn't see her that way, though. She could feel it in him, his desire to understand, to experience some small measure of what had been denied him. He wanted to feel love, to reciprocate it. He craved contact, connection, even as he resented himself for the weakness. If he were rational now, he would feel mortified and deeply ashamed of how he had behaved around her, especially in public.

Who Vulcans were in public or in society, externally, was everything. His struggle with his emotions was a weakness, and perhaps he would never fully overcome them, but he had been trained and told his whole life that to succumb to them would be to succumb to madness, irrationality—and the horror he attached to that thought was staggering.

Seven years since he had last felt another's touch, even made in duty if not in love.

And who he was inside, the person he shared with absolutely no one else—was fathomless. He had a keen sense of humor he kept quelled so he could remain impassive at all times. He had spent his first year at Starfleet Academy observing his human roommate's love affairs and mood swings, and even while all of him had been convinced that being held in their sway would be terrifying, a part of him had desired it. He had learned to channel his energy into aerobic exercise, building his stamina and strength, hoping that it would translate to his own mental control and fortitude.

He was twice her chronological age, but he had lived a life that he had long believed would be devoid of love that he could fully share.

Nancy became aware that her face was wet, that she was crying the tears he couldn't. For him, this was more than blind attraction or animal lust. He had desired this, or something like this, longer than he had ever let himself realize. And then she had come to him.

_I could not promise myself to you and be apart from you for seven years._ Nancy had never been so totally overcome as she was; she could hide nothing from him, desired to hide nothing from him, not when they were bonded like this. He had been right. She knew him now more intimately than she had ever known anyone, more intimately than she had known men who had shared her bed. She had been uneasy that Bess could, in effect, see her down to her mental underwear; like this, Ned had done more than that. He was seeing her right down to her tender unshielded heart, every weakness and fear and desire, just as she was seeing him.

_I would not wish you to be._

_You are—you will be assigned to a starship, once the investigation is over. My work..._

_We will see each other when we are able. We will be together when we are able, if that is what you wish. Please._

He was begging her.

_Nancy._

She raised her head and opened her brimming eyes, and she felt like she had just run a hundred miles. What he proposed was quite simply insanity. They had known each other for such a brief span of time—

But there was nothing inside him that she didn't know. Not now.

It was too soon.

_Please_.

"Nancy," Bess said, and when Nancy looked up at her, a pair of tears rolling down Nancy's cheeks, Bess was standing up, near her. Reaching for her. "That's enough for now. We need to leave."

Ned was panting, his eyes darkening with rage, and when Nancy reluctantly dropped her hand from his cheek he cried out in such anger. The cuffs groaned in protest again. He was straining against them. "No. _No._ "

"Please calm down," Nancy whispered, looking into his face again. "Please. I will come back to you, later. I need time—"

" _No_ ," he begged her, his voice hoarse. When Bess approached him with the hypospray, he thrashed so violently that Nancy moved back, a small alarmed cry escaping her lips as Bess pressed it against his upper arm and triggered it. The sedative was quick but its effects weren't instantaneous, and before he slumped, he had broken through one of the cuffs.

Bess was breathing hard. "I shouldn't have allowed that," she said softly. "Come on, Nancy."

Nancy covered her face with her hands and took a few long breaths before she could stand. She gazed at Ned for a long time, watching his chest rise and fall, then allowed Bess to guide her out of the room. Bess said something quietly to a security officer, who nodded and presumably went to fetch the doctor or the nurse.

"Are you all right?"

"I don't know," Nancy said softly.

Bess was quiet for another moment. "But you aren't afraid," she said, her voice wondering.

"Of course I'm not," Nancy replied. As soon as they walked into Nancy's room, Bess was shivering, but Nancy didn't know how she felt, whether she was hot or cold, awake or asleep. Nothing around her felt quite real in comparison to what she had just been through. She felt overloaded and overwhelmed, and the strongest impulse she felt was to go to him. She had felt such an ache in him, such a desire, and—

Nancy sniffled. "Do you believe in love at first sight?" she asked Bess, who had gone to Nancy's replicator and ordered each of them a dish. Despite the turmoil she was in, Nancy had to chuckle quietly when she joined Bess at the small table in her quarters and saw what was inside. The dish was ice cream covered in hot fudge syrup, with chocolate shavings on top.

"I thought you deserved it," Bess told her with a small smile. "To answer your question... I believe in attraction, desire, lust at first sight. But that attraction is physical and has no true emotional component, and by itself cannot form the basis for a relationship." After tasting and swallowing a spoonful of the dessert with an almost rapturous expression on her face, Bess continued. "But on Betazed... we have another term. The first person who touches your soul, who sees you and accepts you for who you truly are... there will be no relationship, none like him or her for the rest of your life. To that person, you are _Imzadi._ "

"And what does that word mean?" Nancy asked, taking a bite of her sundae. When she noticed that Bess's trembling had increased, she asked the computer to raise the room's temperature to a few degrees below normal again.

Bess gave her a grateful smile. "Thanks. I was hoping the hot fudge might help..." She swirled the spoon through, scooping up a bite with whipped cream and syrup. "I think the closest equivalent in your language would be 'soul mate.' And yes, the man I took as my husband has that relationship with me, and I with him."

Nancy looked up at Bess, who apparently had no reluctance in telling Nancy something so personal about herself. While Nancy and George were good friends, while they did occasionally share their feelings, George was a private person and so was Nancy, to a somewhat lesser degree. The small remaining part of her which cared what others thought of her was mortified that Ned had fallen for her the way he had, in such a painfully public way.

"It cannot be so quick," Nancy whispered, then took another bite.

Bess tilted her head in that small shrugging way. "I don't know what happened between you two in the meld," she admitted. "Your thoughts were shielded from me. But I was afraid for you, with how he's—how strongly he has been feeling... everything. You told your lieutenant earlier that you had been compromised, in a professional sense; if you come into contact with him again, I can't say whether you wouldn't be compromised in an emotional one. But your fascination with him... it's not all one-sided, not all due to his influence."

Nancy shook her head. "I can't be in love with someone I just met."

"I suppose it depends on how you feel about love," Bess pointed out. "If you believe in the concept of love at first sight, then of course it's possible; if you believe in soul mates, in the idea that each of us is predestined to be with another person—or two, or three—then the length of time you have known him has nothing to do with whether you two are meant to be together, or not. You..."

Bess paused, and Nancy took another bite of her ice cream, thinking _Go ahead, you already know._

"I'm just trying to be polite," Bess said in response, smiling. "You've never been in love with anyone for very long or very deeply. Of course the prospect is terrifying, and under these circumstances, even more so. But he cannot lie in the meld, any more than you can. The person you interacted with in that room was who he is, but at so deep a level..." Bess shook her head. "Just like anyone, the persona he adopts in public is not the person he _is_. No more than you are. And the disparity... it would be funny, if it didn't feel so tragic to me. They hide who they are and what they feel as though that makes them stronger, reduces their weakness, when to do so is a betrayal of who they are..."

"You're speaking to someone who comes from a society convinced that the white lie has its place and some truths must be softened," Nancy pointed out. While that buzzing was still humming beneath her skin, thanks to Bess's presence and Ned's sedation, Nancy was indeed beginning to relax a little. Ned was all right. They were taking care of him.

But he would wake again, and he would call her to him—and he would beg her...

"If you choose a champion," Bess pointed out, "this will be over. The doctor will make sure neither of them is truly hurt. The fever will be broken and he will return to who he is."

_Alone._

_I cannot. I cannot do this._

"But you don't want to take that way out," Bess observed, her tone neutral. Her spoon scraped against the bottom of her glass dish as she scooped up another fudge-laden bite, and she let the silence linger. Just as Nancy had when she had interviewed Ned, what felt like a lifetime before.

Two days ago.

Bess sighed and pushed her emptied dish away from her, then propped her chin on her hand. Her eye makeup was elaborate and dramatic, burgundy and silver, and she had added extensions to her hair for the day; lengths of metallic and shining ribbon were woven through it. She thrived on being the center of attention, and she was comfortable in her own skin, with who she was. She radiated confidence and sincerity, and to her maybe the choice would be simple.

"I would follow my heart," Bess answered the question Nancy hadn't asked. "If I truly felt he was my _Imzadi_... then no, Nancy, I wouldn't walk away; I wouldn't be able to. But I also think such a decision can't be made lightly. Vulcans who choose their mates in adulthood, it seems, are generally parted only by death."

Nancy had made it only halfway through her dessert when she pushed the dish away. "You said the next time I see him..."

Bess waited for her to continue when she trailed off. "Tell me what you want," she said softly. "What do you want to happen?"

Nancy was just trying to marshal her thoughts when her comm badge chirped. "Fayne to Drew."

Nancy tapped the badge. "Drew here."

"I've recovered the visual record from the shuttlebay at the time of the incident. If you'd like to see it—"

She grasped that desperately, the opportunity to leave Bess's question and her own uncertainty behind. "Holosuite?"

"Yes."

"On my way."

Bess was shaking her head when Nancy stood. "Let me know what you find out; all this talk of love has made me impatient to go contact my husband. And grab a sweater." She smiled. "And Nancy, _please_ —do not try to see him again tonight, especially alone. Sleep on it. Try to make a decision you can live with for the forseeable future."

Now that the influence of the mind meld had worn off a little, that and the cold from the dessert meant she was finally starting to feel chilled. She went to her closet and selected a clean uniform. "To put him through a challenge and then get to know who he is for the rest of the time," Nancy mused aloud. "And wait seven years, until his defenses might weaken for long enough, for him to want me again."

"Maybe," Bess agreed.

Nancy reached the holosuite and was moderately amused when she had to go through identity confirmation procedures before the door would open. And that was why George Fayne was an excellent assistant; she was very cautious and thorough, and maybe she didn't make the same kind of intuitive leaps Nancy did, but she was good at her job.

George's voice over the comm link had been rushed and impatient with excitement, and Nancy wasn't disappointed when she walked in. She was struck by how accurate the program Bess had used to recreate the survivors' recollections had been.

George glanced up when Nancy entered. "I paused it," she explained. "I've already been through one playback, and it's not one hundred percent complete; there was some data loss, and at the moment just after the explosion, the recording equipment was destroyed. But we can see what came before that."

Nancy nodded eagerly. She did look with some jealousy at her own personal padd in George's hands, but she supposed it didn't matter, really. "Mind if I borrow your padd?" she asked. "Just in case I notice anything and need to make notes."

"Oh, no! Go ahead," George said, and then gave Nancy a small smile. "Sorry. I have to admit that I do really like all the mods I made to yours. I'll have to make myself a duplicate."

"They are all useful," Nancy praised her assistant.

"By the way... everything all right?" George gave Nancy a small shrug, her eyes not quite meeting Nancy's.

"It's okay, for now," Nancy admitted quietly. "I'll let you know when you can interview him."

George nodded briskly. "Computer, start again from time index... twelve-seventeen."

Nancy knew a blush had risen in her cheeks, but she turned to watch the record play out before them, the crew members and engineers like opaque ghosts. They were watching what had happened immediately before the explosion, and even though Nancy still didn't know exactly what the crew had been attempting to accomplish, being able to see it was still exciting.

A short humanoid with a dark close-cropped beard and gleaming eyes stood near the device with a padd in his hands. George pointed him out. "That's the chief engineer," she said, and Nancy nodded, having already recognized him from the crew profiles. "He keeps referring to monitoring the matter mix."

They watched the recording play all the way through, pausing every now and then to note what padds and monitoring equipment was reading. A notation made Nancy almost positive that they really had been dealing with transitional matter; that made her wonder if they truly had found it in the nebula, if they had created it themselves... and what the device had been meant to do.

Even though Nancy was aware the explosion was recorded and couldn't harm her, it was still very loud, and very bright. George flinched to a lesser degree than Nancy did, and immediately after the holosuite went back to bare-grid, the shuttlebay having vanished as the recording came to an end.

"Here's the strange thing," George said, and tapped on her padd a few times. The very last recorded frame coalesced around them, and she reversed slightly. "Look at this."

Nancy's eyes widened, and she walked toward the recorded image of the equipment, already mid-failure, a shower of now-harmless sparks and a dark plume of smoke issuing from the top. Her every instinct told her she needed to get as far from it as she could, but what she saw there, what she thought she saw...

"I... how..." Nancy murmured, bringing her hand up as she squinted into the smoke. "Is it a sensor glitch?"

They had seen sensor glitches during the playback, but none had looked like this.

She had to be imagining it. Had to be seeing patterns where there were none.

"No," George said. "I see it too. They look like faces, don't they. Faces in the smoke."

Nancy let out her breath in a long sigh. "I don't understand," she murmured.

"I don't either," George said. "But I'd love to find out."


	5. Chapter 5

_What do you want to happen?_

Nancy didn't know. She didn't know what she wanted.

The orders the engineers had been following had been classified and above Nancy and George's clearance level. The engineers hadn't kept records of specifically what they were working on in their logs other than notations about "recovery" and "recovery project," with the details in their destroyed padds and some schematics. Neither Nancy nor George had a degree or enough knowledge about the kind of engineering they had been doing to understand, and everyone who had known what was going on was now dead.

Save one, and even he might not be able to give them any useful information about it.

It was clear from the recording that the survivor accounts had been correct. The chief engineer had pushed past the point that his staff had been comfortable, especially to those who had left before the explosion had occurred.

Nancy fell asleep trying to solve the puzzle of the faces they had seen in the smoke, trying to convince herself they had imagined it—but both of them, each without consulting the other? They had been faint, but she feared they were pinning too much on what would turn out to be a sensor echo, a damaged piece of data, or something equally meaningless. Now they had proof, and Admiral Luuris would be pleased to know the investigation had turned up the responsible party.

They had found the _who_ , but not the _why._

If she left in the morning with George, would it be as Bess had said? Would Ned do everything he could to commandeer a craft and find her? Could she run far or fast enough, and could she live with what she had done if walking away resulted in his death?

She couldn't live with that. She already knew.

A challenge would break the fever, and Nancy couldn't shake the feeling that breaking the fever would also end whatever was going on between them.

Logic, the little she possessed when it came to him, told her that it would be safer to challenge. She had felt no lack in her life and career, and she would not feel a lack once he was safely on board another starship and she had gone to her next assignment. And if they crossed paths again, to see those dark eyes impassive and cold as they gazed upon her...

His eyes.

Before Nancy was able to sleep, she remembered what Bess had told her, and put an extra lock on her own door to prevent herself from sleepwalking to him the way she had caught herself trying to do the night before. She had sensed that he was awake and aware a few hours earlier, and that his desperation only grew.

She was deep asleep, the exhaustion having finally caught up with her, when a muffled pounding reached her. Her brow furrowing, she woke slowly, disoriented. She was feeling flushed again.

She flushed even more deeply when she realized that she was wet, that the tender flesh between her legs was slick in anticipation. That she knew he was the one begging for entry.

Slowly she pushed the covers back and rose, her gaze fixed on the door, waiting at any moment for the angry shouts of security officers as they pulled him away, but they didn't come. She tapped in her personal code and the doors parted to reveal him, his fist raised to knock at her door again, his face in shadow. The cool air touched her hardened nipples through the thin fabric of her tank top, warm and waiting.

Bess had said Nancy would be compromised, but she had been wrong. Past tense. She had been compromised, from that first touch.

He stepped forward and she saw his face in the dim light, those incredibly dark eyes, the naked desire and need there. He was barechested, and when he stepped forward to let the door close behind him, she didn't retreat. She could feel the warmth of his proximity, and it was enough to make her lightheaded.

He raised his hand, palm toward her, index and middle fingers joined in the same gesture he had made in the holosuite. It was the way he would touch his mate, a gentle gesture of intimacy, the equivalent of a kiss on the cheek. He had not spoken, and her heart was thrumming loudly enough to say everything she hadn't.

She raised her two fingers too, touching them to his, waiting for Bess to sense that they were together and raise an alarm, for the medical staff to realize he was gone and arrive ready to separate them. Waiting for the chirp of a new comm link or footsteps pounding down the hallway.

"Computer, lock doors," she ordered, and she didn't mistake the smile that twitched his lips up for a brief instant.

Then he cupped her cheek and she cupped his, feeling his fingertips as they sought the _katra_ points, as he began to form the telepathic link in preparation. And he would take her, and she would desire it with her whole being, with every beat of her heart. He had promised her an end to the loneliness. His skin was so warm, so fevered against hers.

He leaned down, pressing his forehead to her other temple, his lips grazing her cheek.

"Yes," she whispered, and when she swayed he caught her with his other arm, pressing her to him. "Yes..."

When she heard the expected pounding at the door they were naked, wrapped around each other, and it was done. He was inside her, so very deep inside her, his cock hard and hot inside her sex and their minds joined so completely that the ecstasy of their lovemaking and his desire overwhelmed her. She was his, so perfectly his, and he was hers, his lips and tongue hot against hers—

"Lieutenant Commander Drew!"

Nancy jerked awake to find herself alone in her quarters, the blanket kicked away, her hips still moving rhythmically. Her hand was clasping her breast through her tank top, and her other fist was clenched hard, the memory of his silky hair under her fingertips. It had been a dream.

"Commander!"

Guiltily Nancy pushed herself up to a sitting position so she could grab the blanket and wrap it around her. That uncomfortable awareness between her thighs was worse, now. "Come!" she called, her voice hoarse, reciting her authorization code after remembering the second lock.

Two security officers came into the room practically at a run, phasers drawn. "He's escaped. Have you seen him?"

Nancy shook her head. "No," she croaked out, then swallowed. "I've been asleep."

The other officer looked around the room, then nodded. "Let us know if he does come here."

"Of course," Nancy replied.

The officers exchanged a glance. "One of us should stay here..."

Nancy's inner flesh was throbbing, and she wanted desperately to relieve the tension. Doing so with a security officer standing outside was the last thing she wanted. "Please don't," Nancy said, nodding at the phaser on her bedside table. "I'll be fine. He isn't here and he hasn't been here. I will let you know if I see him."

As soon as the officers had given her simultaneous nods and left her quarters, Nancy immediately called for a second lock on her door, jerking her tank top over her head, divesting herself of her shorts. "God," she moaned, turning her face into her pillow, cupping her hand between her legs. When she touched herself, the relief was immediate—but it wasn't what she truly wanted. "Oh God..."

Him. What kind of passion could he truly give her—

But she had touched his heart, and she knew what he kept there, away from anyone and everyone else.

She imagined that her legs were wrapped around his waist again as she plunged her fingers into her sex, over and over, her thumb rhythmically stroking her sensitive clit. She imagined those soft lips against her cheek, her neck, closing around the tight tender buds of her nipples as he plunged into her, as she fondled her own breasts. But she could not duplicate the sensation of her mind joined to his, as it had been in the dream, and she sobbed as she brought herself to trembling quivering orgasm, alone.

Alone.

_Come to me._

She slumped to the bed after finding her release, boneless, her fingers still between her legs in a disappointing shadow of his imagined penetration. He was nearby, and she rolled onto her back, opening her legs, her eyes closed as she imagined him coming to her, taking her hand and sucking her arousal-slick fingers into his hot mouth, savoring the taste of it as he plunged between her thighs—

" _God_ ," she moaned, trying to remind herself about why this was dangerous. If he was nearby... a part of her had wondered why he couldn't simply masturbate the way she just had, but she understood. She wanted _him_ , not her own touch, and she would not be satisfied until they were joined.

It was no use. When she was able she stood on wobbling legs and went to the shower, but she couldn't stop imagining him joining her in it, pinning her against the wall and claiming her, demanding and insistent, over and over. The shower was cold but it felt like it only inflamed her more; she returned to her bed naked, and soon she was aroused again.

Then she remembered that Bess was likely very aware of what she was imagining, and she flushed. Her embarrassment didn't stop it, though.

_Come to me_ , she projected, her lips trembling. _Please, come to me_.

She could somehow feel him coming closer, and she lay there naked in her bed, her heart beating faster. She didn't know where her desire ended and his began. She didn't know whose will she was obeying. But if she didn't feel him, his skin against hers, his lips...

He had gained entry to the access tunnels through the starbase, and when she heard him remove the panel in her bathroom and climb through, she considered covering her naked body, but in the end she didn't. He entered her bedroom and she lay there, gazing at him, speechless, the cool air from the climate control systems kissing her tender nipples.

"Nancy," he breathed.

"Yes," she whispered, her gaze locked to him as he crossed to her, his fist clenching as he saw her. "Yes. Let me..."

He sat down beside her on the bed and she sat up, and when he raised his hand, those same two fingers joined, a tremor of recognition and understanding swept over her. In the dream she hadn't given it a second thought. In the dream she had only done what had felt right.

But she wasn't dreaming anymore, and when she looked into his eyes, she knew. He was losing himself, and she could help him... and there would be no going back.

She raised her hand and touched her fingers to his, slowly, almost tentatively.

Then he reached up and ran his fingertips gently down the side of her face, following the curve of her cheek, and Nancy swallowed before she did the same, her gaze locked to his. She almost whimpered when his thumb brushed her chin.

The comm link chirped. " _Shit._ Nancy," Bess said, sounding out of breath. "Nancy, stop. They're on the way. _Stop._ "

Ned's jaw tightened as he gazed at her. "Do not abandon me, do not put me off again," he said, his voice low and intense. "Give me your answer. I will have no other..."

She heard the security team return, heard the computer chiming as they attempted to gain entry. This time they didn't even call out to her. Bess had warned them. And she kept a phaser beside her bed...

Maybe he would only stun them. If she were lucky. But she doubted she would be.

Nancy took a deep breath. "You desire to wed me," she murmured, gazing straight into his eyes. "I will wed you."

"Today?"

She nodded, feeling the distant panic rise in her at what she was promising. "Yes. Today."

The relief that came over him, the _happiness_ , was almost tangible. He stroked her cheek, smiling, and she was struck again by how handsome he was. She was seeing a side of him that almost no one else ever had.

"They're afraid of you," she murmured.

"I will not leave you."

Nancy nodded, taking her hand from his cheek to grab the blanket. Considering how intimate they had already been, she didn't mind if he saw her naked, but the security staff was a different prospect. She removed her second lock on the door through voice command, then told the computer to open the doors to her quarters.

Ned was immediately on guard. He moved to block her body behind his, to protect her from whoever came in. "Why?"

"Because they would not have stopped," she told him.

The lead guard came in, approaching cautiously. "Are you hurt, Commander?"

Nancy shook her head. "No. I'm not hurt. I'm fine."

The guard turned his attention to Ned next. "I need you to come with me."

" _No,_ " Ned said, his voice almost a bellow. "I will not leave her."

When Bess arrived a few minutes later, the situation had deteriorated. Nancy was only able to calm Ned by keeping in physical contact with him, but their insistence that he leave was only enraging him. He was clearly on the lookout for anyone with a hypospray who would dare to sedate him again. He didn't want to be sedated anymore. Definitely didn't want to be sedated anymore. Bess's hair was pulled back and she wore a robe and slippers, and she raised a reassuring hand as she sidled between the security detail. With their luck, George would show up soon—or, better, Admiral Luuris.

"Please stop," Bess said, but she wasn't speaking to Ned. She was speaking to the security officers, who were brandishing phasers. "You're agitating him."

"He's dangerous," one of the guards replied. "He knocked out three people when he was escaping from the medical facility."

"And he doesn't pose a danger to the commander," Bess said, her tone soft and even. "Nor to me, as long as I don't try to separate them. But he'll do more damage if you try to take him out of here, that I can promise."

The security guards looked at each other. Nancy heard one of them mention the doctor's name, and Ned bristled. "Please," she murmured. "He'll be okay. I'm sorry I didn't call you when he showed up."

Bess frowned slightly. "But I will," she promised. "If he becomes dangerous. I don't care if you're right outside, but please. Agitating him isn't going to help."

The security detail gave in with poor reluctant grace, two of them taking posts just outside Nancy's quarters. Ned was panting when the door closed, every muscle in his body clenched, and Nancy touched his forearm again.

"All right," Bess said, her voice not quite as soft now. "I suppose I'll just have to take comfort in the fact that you'll feel really bad about this later, Ned. I'm going to stay in here, though, so what you two were just dreaming about? Put that off a few hours."

Nancy blushed hotly. "Sorry," she muttered.

"It's all right." Bess settled on the couch. "Just relax, Ned. It's all right. I'm not going to take you away from her again."

Still, Ned settled between her and Bess, relaxing on the bed only when Nancy began to guide him down. She was still naked, and Ned turned toward her, letting her twine her body around his. Even with as warm as she felt, he was still so warm against her. She wrapped her arm around his shoulders, her other gently stroking his hair, and she felt the tension just begin to drain out of him.

He was with her, and she had accepted him. All that was left now was following through, and he was content to wait, because she had promised. She knew that he would not be content to wait much longer, though.

He had no conscious memory of being held like this.

She pressed her lips to the base of his neck and felt him swallow hard. "Shh," she murmured. "Shh. Sleep. I'll be here."

He wrapped his arm around her and held her too, that large warm hand with fingers splayed over her bare back, dried green smears of his blood on his knuckles and about his battered wrists, injuries that had come from trying to return to her. He didn't think of himself as broken or lonely, because those were emotions, and he couldn't let himself feel.

_Will you still love me_? was the last thought she had, before she fell asleep in his arms. _Will you still love me, after? If you even love me now?_

\--

Nancy felt almost ashamed to do it, but she forced herself anyway. She had convinced Ned to go to the medical facilities to have his wounds mended, and Bess was examining the wares for sale in the bazaar area, selecting fabric for the dress Nancy would be wearing. It was still incredibly hard to believe that she would be getting married in a few hours.

George wasn't in the holosuite when Nancy arrived, though. The room was empty and available.

Nancy had slept late, in Ned's arms—both of them had needed the rest, after how exhausted they had been—but she was still startled to find that George was gone. She wondered if her assistant had closed the investigation without letting her know, and if that tipped the balance.

_Are you really considering doing this just so you can find out what he knows? Because that's the worst reason in the world..._

And it was, but it wasn't the reason she was considering it. As Bess had pointed out, though, marrying him for the wrong reasons was just as bad. She didn't know why she was still going through with it, but what he had said had echoed with her.

The loneliness would end, for both of them.

Nancy tapped her comm badge. "Drew to Fayne."

George's response was delayed by a few seconds, and muffled. "Fayne here."

"Where are you?"

"On the planet." George heaved a long sigh. "Two of the engineers vanished last night."

Nancy's eyebrows went up. "Two? Any sign?"

"No sign. Their gear is still here, in camp. The radiation is still dangerously high, and it's interfering with sensor readings. I asked the commander of the starbase to scan for any warp signatures or engine trace, but the scan didn't reveal any recent visits to the system in the right timeframe."

Nancy considered. "And you think it's connected."

"How could it not be?" George pointed out.

"And no one saw anything."

"No witnesses. No recordings or anything. I did find out that the two who vanished were working on what would have been close to the destroyed shuttlebay. I've cordoned it off, and left a few tricorders there just in case I can get lucky and find some clues." George paused. "I honestly think that's all we can do, for now, until we find something else... How are you doing?"

"I'm... all right." Nancy let out a long breath. "We're... Ned and I..." It was so hard to say it. "We're having a small ceremony at seventeen-hundred, and if it wouldn't interfere with the investigation..."

"So you're really going through with it," George said more quietly.

Nancy closed her eyes. "Yes."

After that George was quiet for so long that Nancy thought the comm link had been broken. "Are you sure? Really _sure?_ " George sounded just as reluctant to talk about it as Nancy had felt. "You met him three days ago."

"Yeah," Nancy said. "I know. I know it doesn't make sense. I know I should just ask someone to be my champion..."

"And I would," George said. "I'd do that for you in a heartbeat. You know that."

"I do," Nancy said, and smiled. "And I'd do the same for you. I don't understand it, George. I really don't. I know how crazy it is. But I can't walk away from him. It would be so much easier if I could."

"This isn't a one-night stand, Commander."

"I know," Nancy replied.

George paused again. "I'll be there."

"Thank you, Lieutenant."

Despite the circumstances, Nancy arranged for the ceremony to be recorded, because her family members back on Earth were too far away to make it to the starbase in time—not that she had let any of them know what was going on. She still wasn't sure how she would break the news to them, and she couldn't imagine just walking in and casually offering to show her father and aunt her wedding video, but she wanted a record anyway.

The commander of the starbase had been informed that the two of them wanted to have a marriage ceremony, and when she arrived, she didn't question the fact that the groom was a Vulcan dressed in neutral ceremonial robes requesting a portion of the ceremony in his native tongue, while the bride wore a long cream-colored gown embellished at the neckline and sleeves with cream-colored lace requesting an exchange of plain gold bands. George was surprised that Bess had restrained her apparently usual less-than-subtle fashion sense to help select Nancy's gown, but it suited her well; the material was light, and the gown itself was modest. She wore no veil.

Bess had still dressed in a way she had informed Nancy would be less than appropriate at a Betazoid wedding, and Nancy had been relieved that Vulcans didn't have the same practice. Apparently Betazoid weddings, traditionally, involved full nudity for both the betrothed couple and the guests. In a concession to their sensibilities, Bess had chosen a blush-pink gown with a full skirt, the entire garment covered with flounces and frills. Her blonde hair fell in soft curls around her face, and she wore a small jeweled clip in her hair. George wore a set of blue civvies that didn't look very different from her standard-issue uniform.

Then Nancy and Ned were standing side by side, facing the smiling commander, who held a padd in her hands with the ceremony's wording on it.

It was real. It was _real_ , even if neither of them was completely in their right mind.

Half the ceremony was in Vulcan, a language Nancy didn't know, but her universal translator stumbled through the commander's rough pronunciation. Part of the ceremony involved their wrists being bound together with a strip of rough red canvas. Then they drank from a goblet of ceremonial wine, and the taste of it was rich and almost spicy on her tongue.

The English part of the ceremony was simpler. They promised to remain faithful and constant to each other, to forsake all others, and when Nancy slipped the band onto Ned's finger, repeating the vows after the commander, the brief contact reignited the link between them.

_I love you,_ she thought, gazing into his dark eyes. _Even if you cannot. I do, and I will._

He slipped the other ring onto her finger as well. "With this ring, I thee wed," he repeated after the commander's prompting, his voice steady and almost stiffly formal.

At the conclusion of the service, Ned touched his index and middle fingers to hers, and she gazed up into his face. Knowing that he could soon have what he wanted had given him some small measure of control, but she could sense his impatience. She could feel a fine trembling in his hand as she wrapped her fingers around it.

Bess and George gave them both small smiles, and Bess patted Nancy's arm. "A thousand congratulations," she told them, but Nancy could see some hesitance in her eyes. "I'll be in the medical facility if you need me, most likely. Maybe we can meet for some celebratory sundaes later, since the invitation didn't mention a reception."

George rolled her eyes. "Congratulations, Commander," she said. "You'll contact me?"

"Yes," Nancy said, nodding. As impatient as Ned felt, she didn't feel much calmer.

They went back to Nancy's quarters, and when they approached the door, she wasn't surprised that he didn't lift her into his arms and carry her across the threshold. Their hands were still joined, and Nancy's heart was beating harder. She didn't know what to expect, or what he wanted. She didn't know if he had any idea about foreplay, or what foreplay meant to Vulcans.

The doors closed behind them. "Computer, lock doors," he ordered, turning to her.

"You do not have sufficient permissions to—"

"Computer, lock doors," Nancy ordered, chuckling a little despite how nervous she felt.

Ned reached up then, cupping her cheek, his dark eyes intent on hers. The silence in her room seemed to throb around them, and she wanted to break it, but she was so afraid.

She was being foolish. It wasn't like she had never had sex before... but she had never been married before, and she had no idea what he would want of her.

_For the rest of our lives. Oh, what have I done._

His fingers and thumb found her _katra_ points, and her heart was fluttering. She felt her knees begin to buckle, and she reached up to grip his other forearm.

"My mind to your mind," he said quietly. "My thoughts to your thoughts..."

The heat swept over her, the same heat and desire she had felt over the past few days magnified a hundred times. She heard gasping and realized she was the one doing it. _Please, please..._

He could feel her fear, and as he gently guided her to the foot of the bed and sat down with her there, her swimming eyes met his again. _You wish me to be gentle._

_Please. I don't know how it is for you._

He considered, and she slowly reached up to touch his cheek too, to stroke the soft skin. The doctor had healed his bruised cheek, and the bruises and cuts on his knuckles and wrists were gone as well.

They had never even kissed, and he had never kissed anyone before. The joined index and middle fingers, touched to his mate's, were as close as he had come, that small gesture of intimacy, and even that had been rare.

He needed his release, to break the fever in his blood. But that didn't mean he didn't want it to be pleasant for her.

_Can I show you?_

He nodded slowly, and Nancy shifted so she could stand up on her knees. He kept his fingertips against her cheek, and while they were connected in the meld, she knew him again, all of him. He had denied himself so much, believing it weakness because he wanted it so much, and that had made it dangerous. To feel her hands on him out of desire, not out of necessity; to touch her any longer than he needed, to let her see how his desire for her overwhelmed him...

She reached up and cupped both his cheeks, gazing into his eyes. She let him savor it, just the way he had the last time they had melded; she gently ran the ball of her thumb over his lips.

He trembled a little as she did it, but he let her explore his face with her fingertips, tracing his upturned eyebrows with her thumbs, tracing the outer edge of his pointed ears, running the backs of her fingers down his strong jaw. She leaned forward and slowly kissed each of his _katra_ points, and felt him shudder in response.

Then she kissed his lips gently, soft and chaste. She breathed against his ear and his own breath became audible for a moment, but he was still holding himself back, and she knew that.

_I need you to touch me._

The only way he had touched her was to initiate the meld, and when he drew his hand away from her face, it was trembling faintly. He slowly unbuttoned her gown and she nuzzled against his neck, feeling how much her mere touch excited him, the faint cool of her flesh against his—

Because he was so warm in comparison to her, so incredibly warm.

Under the gown she wore a thin silky camisole and shorts, trimmed in thin lace; it felt very different from the utilitarian bras and panties she usually wore. He slipped her dress off and she helped him take his robes off, and when they were in their underwear she moved forward, straddling his thighs as she kissed him again. He was slow to respond to her touch; he had never felt anything like it. Once he embraced her, though, she parted her lips, urging him to part his.

He shuddered when she slipped her tongue into his mouth, stroking against his. He relaxed on the bed on his back with her straddling him still, caressing his cheek as they made out, as he kissed her for the first time. He was tentative at first, and then his large warm palm rested against her back as she relaxed against him.

He was already fully aroused, and she was too. Being physically ready wasn't the same as her being truly ready, though, and she could sense that he didn't understand. If he were with his first wife now, the mating would have been over already.

But she needed tenderness. Deep down, he wanted it too, and she could feel that.

He slipped his hand beneath her top to caress her bare skin, and while he was mimicking the way she was kissing him, he was relieved when she broke the kiss. He was both excited by and nervous about touching her so much, and while kissing her was nice, it was very unfamiliar to him. Then she began to plant soft kisses against his skin, his earlobes, his neck, his collarbones. She caressed his chest and arms, nuzzling against him as she worked her way down his body, kissing his nipples and his ribs. She was startled when she couldn't feel his heartbeat where hers would be; instead she felt it lower in his torso, the throb of it hummingbird-quick.

His heart was beating just a little faster than normal, but for _him_ , normal was much faster than her own pulse rate, and his skin was so deliciously warm under her lips.

He tensed when she kissed the flesh just above his underwear. "Please," he murmured, tentatively threading his fingers through her silky reddish-gold hair, but he didn't do what she was expecting and urge her down further. He didn't want her to do what she was thinking about. He didn't want her to put her hands or her mouth on his erection.

While feeling her touch him was nice, he had never touched his partner this way either, and he was impatient to join with her.

He rolled her onto her back, but as he gazed down at her, she realized that he didn't know what to do to help prepare her. She still wasn't ready for him, and Nancy took a deep breath, letting him feel what she wanted. She couldn't hide anything from him, not like this.

Ned brushed his thumb slowly against her cheek, and she sighed. He kept his touch feather-light, and that was more tantalizing than she had thought it would be. He traced her lips, the curve of her ears, and when he ran his thumb against the top, she realized what he was doing. Her ears were unfamiliar to him. A small smile tilted her lips up.

Then he traced her pulse points, his fingertips drifting down her neck, over her collarbone. When he touched the strap of her camisole, her heart beat a little faster, but he didn't slide it down. He took his time with her, savoring the way her skin felt, the throb of her heartbeat beneath. His hands were almost large enough to span her narrow waist. He didn't nuzzle against her, but his dark eyes were so intense that his gaze was almost its own warmth. When he ran his hand up and gently brushed the tender underside of her breast, she shivered.

Then he cupped her breast, her nipple hard beneath the thin fabric, and Nancy let out a soft sigh as she cupped her hand over his. She guided him, her thumb against his, and he stroked her nipple.

_This feels good to you._

_Yes_ , she replied, closing her eyes. She parted her legs a little, and Ned shifted his weight so he could cup both her breasts.

_This... helps._

She nodded, and when Ned had caressed and stroked her until she was gently rocking her hips, he reached down and began to peel her camisole up. She sat up and helped him draw it up, and though he had seen her naked before, he hadn't been this close to naked then.

_Please. Please._

He gazed into her eyes, and when he cupped her cheek tears rose in her eyes.

_Yes_ , she told him. _Yes. Love me._

He shivered, and when he leaned forward, she cupped his cheek. He kissed her very gently, and she parted her lips under his, cupping the back of his head. His hair was silky under her palm.

As soon as she leaned back, pulling him down with her, he caught the side of her thin shorts with his thumb and began to inch them down. She tilted her hips up to make it easier for him, and flushed in anticipation. As soon as she was naked he pushed his own underwear off; just the thought of her hands on him right now was enough to drive him over the verge, and he wasn't accustomed to feeling so out of control. Even with the imbalance of the _plak tow_ , he was with her now. It was influencing her, and Nancy knew Bess considered her compromised, but she had been attracted to him even before. That didn't mean she couldn't have said no.

She had accepted him anyway, and while she was anxious, he was drawing from her calm.

He leaned down to her, pressing his lips against the corner of hers, and he stroked her silky smooth legs as he moved between them. She reached up and cupped the back of his head again, touching his _katra_ points with the fingers of her other hand because he desired it, even though she didn't have the ability to meld with him that way.

And then she realized. That was the only other touch he had ever felt, while he had joined with his first wife.

She whispered his name, his true one, and her lips parted as he began to move inside her, gently at first. She looked up into his eyes, trembling. "Oh..."

He looked down into her eyes too, and then pressed his lips to hers in a sweet soft kiss. She moaned as he deepened their bond, her legs parted wide and his cock, hot and hard and thick, moving against her incredibly slick inner flesh. She was glad now that he had taken some time with her, instead of stripping her naked and claiming her immediately.

Then he reached between them and brushed his thumb against her clit, and Nancy bucked hard, crying out as his full length was sheathed in her tender sex. He kissed her again, very gently, then moved back to look into her eyes as she gasped.

"Ned... oh, oh _God_..."

He could sense her arousal, but he didn't understand the words she was crying out, and she would have laughed if she wasn't so overwhelmed. She shuddered hard as he kept stroking her clit, and her desire and delight echoed his own.

She had thought that after going without sex for so long, he wouldn't last very long, but she had forgotten about his discipline. It was their first sexual encounter, and she hadn't been sure she would reach orgasm, but they were joined, and he knew what she wanted and needed to be satisfied.

He was quiet and she moaned, and the sound of it made both of them shudder. He drove in and out of her, steadily, steadily fondling her clit, until she bucked hard under him again. "Oh yes, oh _yes_..."

_Love me._

She didn't know if it was his thought or hers, but she blinked a pair of tears down her cheeks and stared into his eyes as he kept moving inside her. "Yes," she whispered, and he pressed inside her with a harder thrust.

"Yes."

Nancy's lips parted, and she arched hard and wrapped her legs around him, her body moving against his every thrust. She did everything she could to help incite his pleasure, stroking his back, caressing his ass, stroking the outer edge of his ears. When she felt her orgasm begin to rise and rise, she sobbed in relief, her sobs becoming a long low moan of arousal. She wanted him to come with her, but then he rubbed her clit the other way and Nancy gasped out a cry as her inner flesh began to spasm around his cock.

"Oh _God_ ," she cried out, arching and tipping her head back, and when he touched her _katra_ points again she screamed, his pleasure rippling through and heightening her own. She lost control of her body's response to his, letting him feel how intoxicating his flesh against hers and his cock deep inside the slick heat of her sex was for her. Finally she heard him panting, and she knew that he was getting closer.

She babbled and sobbed as he rode her through it, her eyes rolling back as she came again, and under her sobs she could hear the wet sound of him moving inside her, plunging home as he fondled her clit. All that she could feel was him, all she knew, all she wanted, and he kept going until the pleasure became sharp and intense as pain, until she was boneless, weak and powerless and begging under him.

After her third orgasm she forced herself to bring her chin down and gaze up into his dark eyes, her own swimming, her cheeks already wet. "Come," she begged him. "Oh God you can take me again but please please _come_..."

He took a deep breath, pressing his full length between her thighs before he stiffened, and she felt the incredible relief that swept over him as he finally spent himself inside her. She whimpered when he moved his hands to support his weight, then slowly lowered himself to her, and she wrapped her arms around him.

"Oh my God," she whimpered. "Ohh..."

She was sure that she had never come like that before, that no one she had ever slept with had ever lasted so long as he had. She had a feeling she would need eight hours of sleep just to recover from what they had just done.

Bess had said she couldn't imagine that much pent-up sexual tension. Nancy didn't have any strength at all left in her body. She could only gasp for breath, stroking his hair as he tried to catch his breath too. Her limbs were still trembling faintly, the muscles of her stomach and core twitching with the aftershocks.

She had never, never felt anything like their lovemaking had felt.

"Was that acceptable?" Ned murmured.

"Oh, my God. That was definitely more than 'acceptable,'" she murmured.

He moved away from her, rolling onto his back beside her, and Nancy let out a long slow breath. "Was it acceptable for you?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied, and she didn't hear a trace of humor or irony in his voice. "It was sufficient."

A moment later, he left the bed, and Nancy sighed again as she stretched. She didn't know what she was feeling. She just knew that she wanted to sleep. After she wiped her slick thighs, she pulled the sheet over her, her lashes drifting down.

They could talk about it later. For now, she was exhausted, mentally and physically.

When she woke, that unfamiliar golden band still circled her left ring finger, but he was gone.


	6. Chapter 6

"You have to be careful."

Nancy nodded, turning her helmeted head to look over at George. The two of them were on the planet, in full protective gear. Nancy noted with approval the barriers George had put up, and the engineers, dressed in their own heavy protective gear, moved like sluggish giants.

"Lannon?"

George nodded, pointing to an engineer who was holding a scanner at the outer edge of the wreckage. "She took the readings. So once we get back to the station... it would be all right for me to interview the commander?"

Her husband. Nancy was glad George didn't call him that. She nodded. "As far as I know."

When Nancy had risen that morning, alone and gloriously relaxed from a full night of rest, the distraction of Ned's _pon farr_ and _plak tow_ had passed, and Nancy felt like herself again. It was a relief, in all honesty.

She missed him, just a little. They had been so totally connected the night before, and to be suddenly so completely alone was a little jarring. But it was over now, and she couldn't imagine what would happen when she saw him today.

She had been insane to agree to marry him, just as Bess and George had tried to tell her.

"As far as you know?" George repeated, a faint note of disbelief in her voice.

Nancy shook her head. "Let's just talk to Lannon," she said, trying to make her own voice firm.

When they were safely in the runabout with Lannon, the engineer pulled off her helmet to reveal a sleek dark bob; the top of her head was perfectly smooth and hairless, a line of scales where the top of her scalp would have been. As soon as the helmet was off, the scales rose slightly, and Nancy wondered if she used them the same way humans used ears or noses. She was otherwise humanoid, though her skin appeared reptilian and her nose was just a pair of slits. Her bright eyes had vertical slits for pupils.

"Thank you for coming," Lannon said, nodding at George and Nancy. Her tone was brisk. "As we've worked at clearing the wreckage and the radiation in the atmosphere, we've been able to do more thorough scans on the remains of the engineering section. What we've found..." She took the padd she carried and tapped it a few times, then turned to show it to Nancy and George.

"Traces of organic matter," Nancy murmured as she read the report. That wasn't surprising. The engineers who had been killed at the time of the explosion would be left in traces, if their remains had come down to the planet with the rest of their ship.

"And this," George said, tapping one number before glancing over at Nancy.

"We're seeing inexplicably high levels of anyons," Lannon confirmed with a nod.

"Anything naturally occurring which might explain it?"

Lannon shook her head. "We believe they are related to the explosion, but again, since we have not yet determined the nature of their project, we can't say exactly how they were formed."

"Do they pose a danger to living beings? Could they be responsible for the disappearance?" Nancy was feeling energized.

Lannon shook her head. "They aren't dangerous to living beings. But the presence of those particles is a bit troubling. Have you had any luck yet finding out the nature of the project?"

Nancy and George shook their heads. With no equipment remaining, the schematics they had recovered could have been used to assemble a variety of machines. "Not yet, other than that it might have involved some kind of recovery. We might have an idea later today," George volunteered.

Lannon tilted her head. "We have many ways to deal with that sort of radiation," she said. "But treating the symptom rather than the cause could be dangerous. Please let me know what you find."

Nancy handed the padd back to Lannon. "Have you noticed anything else? Any other 'symptoms'?"

"It's too soon to tell," Lannon said. "I'll know more once we've cleared more of the radiation. But I'll let you know."

"Anyons," Nancy said thoughtfully, once she and George were alone again.

"Yes," George replied. "Wish it could have been something more conclusive."

"It's a clue, though." Nancy picked up the padd she had been using and did a quick search. "Anyons can be used to eliminate chroniton fields."

"It doesn't make any sense for the team to construct a chroniton field generator, since that can be done easily through existing ship's systems," George pointed out. "But maybe a tightly-controlled chroniton or anyon field was needed for what they were doing."

Nancy nodded. "Sounds like we need to try out plan A," she said. "And then plan B."

Plan A involved George interviewing Ned, and hopefully finding out what was going on. Nancy and George returned to the starbase together, and as they discussed various vague theories which might explain the equipment, they headed toward the medical facilities. Nancy hadn't intended to accompany her there, given her connection to the witness, but before she knew it she was walking into sickbay.

Bess was there. She wore a long one-shouldered gown made of deep green fabric, slit up to her waist in several places to reveal a paler green underskirt. She had dyed several locks of her hair various colors, but the majority was still blonde; it was half-up, plaited at the crown of her head. Once she had completed her work in helping Nancy and George recreate testimony and witness statements, she had begun counseling the survivors who were suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder or other stress-related disorders, helping them adjust.

Ned was in sickbay too, but he was in uniform for the first time since Nancy's arrival. Nancy glanced over at him once and felt a blush stain her cheeks; she looked away quickly, heading over to Bess. Speaking to her was a good excuse to stay away from Ned.

After she finished her conversation with an ensign, Bess looked expectantly at Nancy, her dark eyes curious. "Oh," she said. "Oh, Nancy, I'm sorry."

Nancy almost tried to play dumb, but Bess already knew. She just looked down at her hand, at the wedding band she hadn't yet taken off.

"You know what I think we both need? A triple-chocolate milkshake. Come on." Bess wrapped her arm around Nancy's shoulders and began to walk her out of the sickbay. Despite herself, Nancy glanced over at Ned and George, who were apparently planning on leaving too.

Nancy felt a rush of pride for how well George was doing as lead on the investigation. Sometimes she could get a little overzealous, but Nancy had always found her an asset.

Nancy and Bess reached the food court, and once they had ordered their desserts, Bess led Nancy over to a more private table. "Do you want to talk about it?" Bess asked once they sat down.

"You sure you could handle it?" Nancy asked before she thought about it.

Bess gave her a small smile. "Well, Commander, I already pretty much know it all... but the milkshake's going to go a long way toward helping me recover from the morning. It is pretty draining, honestly."

"It's nice of you to stay on."

Bess tilted her head. "I'm interested to see what happens," she said. "I'll feel disappointed if all those people died for nothing. Not to mention that I want to see what happens between you and Ned."

Nancy took a long sip of her milkshake. "I don't know what's going to happen," she said. "Maybe... I don't know."

Bess paused, taking her own sip. "You... well, the influence of it has passed for you, but the change in him has been like night and day. And you haven't spoken to him since..." Then Bess raised her eyebrow. "Wow. So last night..."

Nancy blushed again. Bess looked a little jealous, and quite impressed, and Nancy knew she didn't need to talk about it, but she also couldn't imagine telling George about what had happened the day before. "It was incredible," she said quietly. "But it feels like... like it happened to someone else."

"In a way, I guess it did," Bess said.

"I really screwed up, didn't I."

Bess propped her chin on her hand. "How so?"

Nancy stirred her straw through her milkshake. "I shouldn't have said yes. I should have just done what George said and had someone challenge him and just... just walked away from this." She sighed. "God."

"Nancy..."

Whatever Bess was about to say was cut off when Nancy's comm badge beeped. "Fayne to Drew."

Nancy tapped her badge, relieved for the interruption. "Drew here."

"Are you available, Commander? You need to hear this."

"I'm available."

"We're in Conference Room B-2."

"On my way."

When Bess rose too, Nancy raised her eyebrows. "What? I just told you I wanted to see this through."

"Liar."

"Do I want to see if his heart beats faster when he sees you? Maybe." Bess bumped her shoulder against Nancy's. "I just don't want you to be upset about this."

Nancy shrugged. "I'm not upset," she said.

Bess pressed her lips together, but didn't contradict Nancy as they boarded the turbolift.

George and Ned were seated at a long obsidian table in the conference room when Bess and Nancy arrived. Ned looked impassive, and the intensity Nancy had seen in his dark eyes was dampened now. George's own dark eyes, though, were lit up with interest. She did look mildly surprised to see Bess come in with Nancy, but she turned back to Ned anyway. Between them Nancy saw a padd and tricorder.

"Start from the beginning," George asked Ned, once Nancy and Bess had taken seats at the table. "From the time the engineers boarded the _Scovill_."

Ned's voice was even and neutral. "The engineers boarded to start work on the construction of a device," he said, keeping his gaze on George.

"And what was that device meant to do?"

"I am given to understand that sensors had picked up indications that matter in this sector had been forced 'out of phase.' They intended to put that matter back 'in phase.'"

"What is 'in phase' and 'out of phase'?"

"No longer on this plane of existence," Ned replied, and steepled his fingers. His calm in the face of their excitement was almost infuriating.

"Dead?" Nancy jumped in. Ned glanced over at her, and when she looked into his eyes, for the brief instant she was able, it was as though they had never met. She saw no warmth at all in his eyes.

A chill went down her spine.

"If you refer to noncorporeal entities, no. Corporeal, but not currently in our plane of existence. Not observable by our current systems. The engineers had some measurable success with directed beams of chroniton particles, but that system was inefficient in such a large expanse of space. Thus, they began construction on the device."

"Were these 'out of phase' beings... how did they know they were there?"

"Again, I could only speculate," Ned said. "I would not wish to do so on so little information. A small trading vessel vanished in this solar system five-point-two years ago. A Federation explorer craft vanished here three-point-one years ago. I believe the efforts were to locate those vessels."

"So the engineers thought they were here, just invisible to us," Bess put in, her own arms folded. Her dark eyes were locked onto Ned's face.

"Precisely. The chroniton field was meant to bring them back into our plane."

"The faces," Nancy whispered, and George looked over at her. "The beings, the crews of those crafts, or all of it? The crew and the spaceships?"

"I believe the crews were the priority, but any matter which had passed over."

Suddenly Bess shuddered, pushing herself back from the table. "You and your captain discussed why," she said.

For the first time during their conversation, Nancy was able to detect the barest flicker of any emotion from him at all, and it wasn't even anything so obvious as a barely-raised eyebrow or a twitch of his fingers. Throughout the entire discussion, he had acted as though they were discussing the planetside weather, or something else as inconsequential and objective. "As the captain is not here I would not wish to report on those statements."

Bess sat back, clearly having a hard time getting herself back under control.

Nancy made a quiet irritated sound. "All this doesn't explain the explosion."

"Construction had taken a considerable amount of time, and the engineers had run several projections in simulated environments. It is my understanding that they completed the physical construction of the device and brought it online at a one-percent capacity to test its efficacy."

"That was the first time it had been brought online?" George rushed to ask.

Ned inclined his head. "Again, while the chief engineer on the project could be condemned for his zeal over it, from all reports, the proper precautions had been taken. They did not expect the response when they put the device into operation."

"They did not expect them to come back," Bess whispered, and the hair on the back of Nancy's neck stood up. "None of them believed it. They did not expect them to come back."

Nancy caught that brief flicker of emotion from Ned again.

"Are you sensing what they felt at the time of the accident?" George asked Bess, her tone a little impatient.

Bess shook her head. "I'm sensing what he _knows_ ," she said, looking at Ned. "They weren't expecting this and they were terrified by it. The ones who knew what was going on, anyway. The faces. Oh, oh gods, the faces..."

"What was happening to them?" Nancy demanded. "The people the engineers were trying to rescue. I understand that they were stranded..."

"Stranded, but intentionally," Bess said, her eyes wide as she gazed at Ned, speaking his thoughts aloud. "By a force. The _Borg_."

At that, Nancy and George both recoiled a little. " _What?_ " George demanded.

Bess and Ned exchanged a long glance, and apparently mutually decided that Ned would continue, instead of Bess pulling his thoughts out of his head for the investigators. "The Borg are apparently focusing their efforts on finding other, more conducive environments for assimilation of new members," he said. "They have experimented with time travel, going back to a time before the Federation existed; they have also found a way to phase matter. They would theoretically have the ability to pull each of our ships into that other plane one by one—"

"Fish in a barrel," Nancy murmured.

Ned tilted his head. "The metaphor is apt," he said. "With a small group of highly-powered warships, they can take ships with comparatively little force, using the element of surprise in their favor. In our orders, we were told that the fear is great, that these relatively minor incidents were just a prelude. We were attempting to bring back the phased parties to interview them if possible, to gather intelligence on what the plan is and how to prevent its implementation."

"If they were using anyons to draw ships over..." Nancy mused.

"Then we might be able to outfit the fleet with chroniton-field generators to prevent such a trap from being sprung again. But not until we were sure the technology would be able to achieve the given result."

"And if that belief spread, that Borg could snatch ships out of space and assimilate their crews with impunity, and no chance of rescue..." George was speaking quickly.

"Panic might result," Ned agreed impassively. "And so only those who possessed the proper clearance were told that information. Of the command team, and as far as I know of all the survivors, I am the only one with that knowledge. Which, I reiterate, is classified."

Nancy nodded. "Right. So this is off the record. I understand."

Ned paused. "I received word today that the project will continue with another ship, already en route. I will be transferring onto the USS _Banner_ upon its arrival."

"So soon?" Nancy raised her eyebrows. She noticed that Bess and George were glancing between her and Ned as they spoke, as though the interview now belonged to her. She wasn't sure how she felt about that.

"I was debriefed this morning and indicated to the Admiral that I believe the project to be sound. While the loss of life is indeed regrettable—"

"So you would just throw seventy-five lives away?" Nancy's anger was only magnified by his apparent calm. "You would have that catastrophe teach us nothing?"

The only change in Ned's expression was the barest twitch of one eyebrow. "On the contrary, Commander. Were we to abandon this project _now_ , their deaths would be in vain. In the balance, the loss of those crewmen against the loss that could result from a full Borg takeover of Starfleet would be infinitesimal. Because once the ships' crews are assimilated, they would be able to send them back. To use all our own technology against us."

Nancy crossed her arms. "It still sounds like foolishness to me, to continue in the same path, when it ended the first time so terribly."

George cleared her throat. "So in your opinion, Commander, the loss of the _Scovill_ was not due to malicious intent or gross negligence on the part of any crew member."

"Correct. I was present for the simulated runs, and the power surge measured just before the explosion well exceeded anything observed during those simulations, by a factor of ten to the ninth."

George raised an eyebrow, and Nancy wondered if she was intentionally, or subconsciously, mocking Ned. "Then it's a wonder the entire ship wasn't destroyed."

Ned inclined his head. "I am unaware of any other information I have which might be of use to your investigation," he said. "The consequences of the trial run are regrettable. The loss is regrettable."

As far as he was concerned, clearly the interview was over, but he waited to be formally dismissed. Nancy just gazed at him for a moment, unable to reconcile the man sitting across the table from her with the one who had sworn fidelity to her the day before.

He did not wear his ring. Nancy looked down and drew her own hand into her lap, ashamed that she wore her own when it had meant so little to him. She felt a gaze on her, but when she knew it was Bess's, she didn't bother to look up. She didn't need to see the sympathetic look on the Betazoid's face.

"Very well. Thank you for the interview, Commander. I will contact you if we need any further evidence."

When Ned had left, George glanced over at Nancy. "At least now we can tell the engineers on the planet what happened," she said.

Nancy was grateful for the reminder that she had something else to focus on. "And we can file our report," she said. "Get out of here, and maybe try that Lailaru version of _marco-polo_ you were so excited about."

George nodded. "Divide and conquer?"

"Sure. I'll prep the report, if you'd like to talk to the engineers. Then we can send a communiqué to Admiral Luuris."

They parted outside the conference room, and Bess rushed to catch up with Nancy, who was walking as fast as she could without running. Nancy was doing her best to put the turmoil she was feeling out of her head. They could just forget about what had happened the day before. He clearly already had.

"Commander," Bess gasped out, and caught Nancy's arm with a very gentle touch. "Nancy."

Nancy shook her head, only slowing a little. "I need to finish my report," she said.

Bess frowned, but nodded. "I'll catch up with you later," she said.

Nancy was unable to return to her quarters, so she took her returned padd and tricorder and headed to a holodeck to assemble the final report. George had already made notes, and so Nancy used the holodeck to spread out all they had collected and discovered, to sort it and list it in the report. She left Ned's testimony for George to edit as she saw fit; since their report would become public record eventually, she didn't want to include what he had said was unofficial, but she also didn't want it to be lost forever, either. But editing it herself, hearing his cold detached voice again—she couldn't do it, not yet.

George returned a few hours later with some large servings of a spicy noodle broth and roasted meat wrapped in a crispy fried shell. "Thought you might be hungry," she said, and Nancy accepted it gratefully. The meal looked wonderful, but her stomach had been a tangle of knots practically since she had awakened that morning. She nibbled at the meat dish as George set to work editing the record of Ned's testimony.

After working for the majority of the afternoon, they had two final reports. One would be kept in their records, sealed, and revealed only once Starfleet officials deemed it safe. The other would be sent to Admiral Luuris, who apparently had not been told the scope of the project. Or, if he had, his goal had been to determine whether the project itself was flawed, or whether the sabotage had come from within.

The food had long gone cold by then, and Nancy looked down at her half-eaten lunch. At least she had managed to eat something, she thought.

"Commander," George said quietly. "You look like you need some rest. I'll go ahead and transmit this, and wait for the admiral's confirmation." She gave Nancy a smile.

"Thanks," Nancy murmured. "I don't need any rest, though. Maybe I have time to scale a mountain before we get out of here."

At that, George's smile broadened. "Maybe," she agreed. "I'll contact you when it's sent."

When George had left her alone, Nancy cleared up everything. She always felt let down at the end of an investigation, once the mystery had been solved and all the loose ends tied up. At the conclusion of this one, though, what she felt was more like depression.

Her comm badge chirped, and when she heard Ned's voice, her heart skipped a beat. "Would this be an acceptable time for a personal conference?"

Nancy felt sick. "Yes," she said. "I'm in a holosuite right now, but—"

"I will come to your present location."

She was glad when she didn't have long to wait for him, but she also didn't know what to expect from their meeting. If he were human, she would have been angry, very angry with him.

_And what's stopping you?_ she asked herself. _Was what he did any more understandable because he isn't human?_

The doors parted and he stood there for a moment, hands clasped behind his back, his spine straight, eyes impassive. He couldn't have looked less like the man she had married the day before if he had tried. "Commander."

"Commander," she replied, attempting to keep her own voice as expressionless as his.

The doors closed behind him, and she briefly, intensely wished that she had even a portion of Bess's telepathic powers. If they were melded, she would know exactly how he felt, but he was closed off to her. All she felt was panic and embarrassment, and a fervent wish to put the mistake behind her.

"I apologize for involving you in my recent—condition," he said. "I had intended to resolve the matter privately. I will contact the appropriate parties on Vulcan and have the contract between us dissolved."

"Like a Risa wedding?" she said, but there was no humor in her voice. "Forged in the heat of a passionate moment and undone the next day."

He paused, but ultimately ignored the comment. "They will contact you to receive your assent. I... again, I apologize, Commander."

Nancy crossed her arms. "And I'm sorry too," she said, her voice trembling a little with anger. "I didn't understand that what you wanted was a one-night stand. You—you used me. You would have promised me anything I asked, wouldn't you? You told me—that it would end the loneliness, but you had no such intention. And now you can just claim it was, what? Temporary insanity?"

"Yes," he said quietly.

"You do not love me."

He drew a deep breath. "I am a Vulcan, Commander," he said. "Our lives are built on logic, and emotion—love, in particular—is irrational."

Nancy's sight began to swim with tears, and she released a soft frustrated cry. She hated crying, and especially when the circumstances were so mortifying. "The investigation is over, and we will be leaving soon," she told him, trying to keep her voice even, but it still shook faintly. "You'll pardon me for saying so, but I pray our paths don't cross again."

This time she didn't even bother studying his face to see any sign of an emotional response. It didn't matter. He didn't care about her and in all truth he never had. She had been a means to an end, and she had fallen for it. "Live long and prosper, Commander."

Nancy shook her head, turning away from him. A few heartbeats later, she heard the door open and close as he left her.


	7. Chapter 7

Nancy managed to put off seeing Bess again that day, but after they contacted Admiral Luuris, she and George were told that their transport would arrive in forty-eight hours. George didn't say anything about it, but she was more than happy to traipse through the most exotic and challenging environments the holosuite had to offer with Nancy instead of wandering the starbase.

Many of the _Scovill_ 's survivors had been released from the medical facilities and were waiting for their own assignments. Avoiding the sickbay area wasn't enough guarantee that she wouldn't run into Ned again. Nancy was loathe to be seen as a coward, or as running away—but she was.

She had asked that her room be changed, and no one had questioned it. Once she left the starbase, she was considering taking a week or so of leave on Earth. She hadn't seen her father or the rest of her family in a while, and she missed them.

The ring was in that small metal suitcase which contained the rest of her life. She meant it as a reminder to herself, a reminder that her decisions and actions had to be more deliberate. She had been right to keep her romances brief and light before. She knew she should treat what had happened with the commander the same way. She was just unable to look back at it with any objectivity at all, yet. She still just felt hurt by what had transpired between them.

On the second day, only a few hours before their scheduled departure, Nancy and George limped into sickbay—and Nancy couldn't help looking around for a tall dark-haired man with pointed ears. She didn't find him, though, and she was both relieved and a little disappointed. Nancy and George had been climbing a steep mountain in a virtual recreation of a Klingon landscape, and while the holosuite's safety protocols had kicked in, they had still suffered some bumps and bruises on the way down.

Ned might not have been there, but Bess was. She would be taking the same ship back toward home that Nancy and George were, and Nancy had hoped that her obvious reluctance to talk to Bess would keep her away. So far it had appeared to work. Bess's hair was in long blonde curls down her back, and she wore a long gown with a sweetheart neckline, the color starting with a pale yellow at the straps and darkening to a deep orange at the hem. When George told her, voice teasing, that she looked like a sunset, Bess thanked her with a wide grin.

The _Banner_ hadn't arrived yet. Ned was still on the starbase, as far as Nancy knew, unless he had beamed down to the planet to help with cleanup efforts.

Bess's manner was light and cheerful, and the sight of so many empty beds, the occupants presumably well on their way back to full health, was a welcome one. Once the abrasions on Nancy's knees and elbows had been healed, she stood up and was unsurprised to see Bess approaching her.

"I think you still owe me half a chocolate milkshake," Bess said.

Nancy considered putting her off, but didn't see the point. They would be on a starship together for the majority of a day, and she would be a captive audience then; best to get whatever Bess wanted to say over with.

She was a little exhausted from the mountain climbing, so Nancy ordered a fruit cup while Bess ordered a towering confection of chocolate and whipped cream. They settled at a table large enough to accommodate George if she chose to join them.

"You've been avoiding me," Bess opened the conversation, scooping up some chocolate and looking expectantly at Nancy with those wide dark eyes.

"Yes," Nancy said. "You, and..." She didn't finish the sentence, and she knew she didn't need to.

Bess tilted her head. "I don't usually do this," she said quietly. "But then I often don't have need. The way you feel is understandable, Nancy."

Nancy tried to swallow the lump in her throat, unsuccessfully. "Then why do we need to talk about it?" she asked.

"Because he's afraid of you."

Nancy's head jerked up, her sight shimmering. "What are you talking about? Fear's an emotion, right?"

Bess nodded. "Vulcans have emotions. They just choose not to express them or let them influence their decisions. They value being rational and logical above all else. And when Ned figured, quite reasonably, that your marriage wasn't based on any sort of solid foundation, he decided he would compound the mistake as little as possible, and dissolve the contract." Bess spooned up and swallowed another bite of ice cream. "Plus he's afraid of you."

Nancy sniffled. "Why?"

Bess tilted her head. "With you, he lost control," she said softly. "Since he was an adult he has never lost control. Not with anyone, not in any situation. He's fallen in love with you. With _you_. For the first time."

Nancy gaped at Bess for a moment. "And the logical response to that is to break things off?"

"Of course," Bess said evenly, and then she smiled. "He was attracted to you and that's a position of weakness. There's no way for him to act logical or rational about this, not where you're concerned. He's acting in self-preservation."

"There was no self," Nancy whispered, before she thought better of it. "There was no 'me' and 'him,' not in the bond. He saw all of me. And then he..."

"You feel like he rejected you," Bess finished, when Nancy couldn't. "Imagine that you're in a state of high intoxication when you meet someone for the first time. You share things with that person you never would have sober; you connect in a way that, quite frankly, would have been impossible if your inhibitions hadn't been lowered. Your shields are down." Bess smiled. "Well, you understand what I mean. And then you sober up and your inhibitions are back to normal, and you're ashamed of putting yourself in that position in the first place."

"Yes," Nancy agreed.

"That's how it is for you. For him? Maybe you've had a few crazy nights blitzed on Romulan ale and had only what your friends told you happened to go by. For him? I don't know if there _is_ a comparison. Like I've told you before, everything is based on what is public and what is private. In his public persona, he would _never_ behaved toward you as he did. He's ashamed that he was ever put into such a position, and then... well, I suppose it's like being with someone you see as a bad influence, someone who would actively try to lead you astray. Being with that person is fun and exciting, but you feel—guilty. And he does."

"But what did I _do_ that would make him blame me?" Nancy was bewildered. "He was the one who came onto _me_. It's not like I... seduced him..."

Bess shook her head, swallowing another sip of her milkshake. "You make him feel," she said. "Worse than that, you two were bonded at the time. You saw him at his most vulnerable. He wants to get as far away from that as possible."

Nancy shrugged. "Good," she said, spearing a chunk of fruit with her fork. "He's doing a damned good job of burning that bridge."

Bess tilted her head. "I'm sorry," she murmured again. "I misunderstood. You're just as afraid as he is."

Nancy raised her eyebrows. She didn't have a chance to respond before George came to their table and took a seat. "Good as new," the lieutenant said cheerfully. "And ready for our next assignment."

"Me too," Nancy said. "I always feel at loose ends between."

Bess looked between the two of them with a smile on her face. "I know I don't necessarily have control over whether Starfleet asks me to consult with the two of you again, but I have to say I really wouldn't mind it. But even if we didn't... I just _know_ the lieutenant here is just dying for some girly bonding time that doesn't involve scaling a virtual mountain. A shopping and pampering day once we get to Betazed is _just_ what the doctor ordered. Haircuts, makeovers, manicures and pedicures..."

"Yes, because I'd love to break a fake fingernail the next time I'm pursuing a suspect," George shot back, but Nancy could see the hint of a smile on her face.

A part of Nancy was waiting, for those remaining hours, for Ned to run into her again, either by accident or intentionally. For him to be honest with her about the reasons he had decided to end their marriage. But Bess had been right. She had been disappointed, but she had been relieved too. It was easier to pretend it had happened to someone else, to blame it on temporary insanity.

It was only pretending. Ned had been incredible in bed. She didn't think she would ever find another lover like him.

Compatibility in bed didn't mean compatibility in marriage, though. He didn't want to be her husband. He actively worked to repress his own emotions, and that meant his joy as well as his sadness. His perpetual calm was borderline infuriating. He was private, and she was drawn to people who tried to hide things about themselves, mostly from force of habit. He had been right to say their marriage should be dissolved.

Nancy didn't see Ned again before they left. The thought of never seeing him again filled her with equal parts sorrow and relief.

Despite George's obvious discomfort in spending time in a society of telepaths, Nancy and George did spend the majority of a day on Betazed with Bess once the consultant returned home. George affected disdain during their shopping trip, but Bess picked out a one-shoulder cobalt-blue gown for her that really did look amazing. For Nancy, Bess picked out a diaphanous white gown with an abstract silkscreen print in blue, green, and purple. After trying it on, Nancy brought it back out with a shrug, saying it had looked good but she didn't know where she would possibly wear it.

"Get it anyway," Bess said with a smile. "The opportunity will present itself, I truly believe that. Maybe sooner rather than later."

The end of their shore-leave was both happy and bittersweet. Nancy really had liked meeting Bess; she didn't have many friends, especially not close ones like George. Nancy couldn't say that she always appreciated the way Bess spoke her mind, but she was getting used to it. It balanced well, since George almost never wanted to talk about her own feelings.

"I know you didn't ask," Bess said quietly, when she and Nancy were a short distance away from George, "but I think you should go to him. Talk to him. He's just as afraid as you are; he's just better at hiding it." Bess gave Nancy a smile. "Besides, you married him twice that day, didn't you?"

"I guess so," Nancy admitted.

"He's still your husband. The person you married is still there, he's just underneath. And maybe you'd be willing to wait another seven years to be with him again... but I don't think you're that patient."

Nancy shook her head. "And if he refuses to even see me?"

"Then at least you tried." Bess hugged her. "Maybe he's not exactly what you always pictured, that perfect man you imagined... but if I met a man who had that kind of connection to me, who could be my soul mate? I wouldn't give him up without a fight."

Nancy patted Bess's back. "I'll think about it," she said.

Bess smiled at her. "One day you'll learn to stop lying to me," she replied.

"I _will_ think about it," Nancy protested. "I probably won't _do_ anything about it, but I'll think about it."

"That's all I can ask."

\--

The hurt Nancy felt still lingered. She and George went on other assignments in the months after, their lives in their small sets of luggage, and the slender gold band that was Nancy's personal souvenir of their wedding remained inside. She took it out a few times, on nights when she and George went out for a drink and tried to unwind, but her thoughts always went back to him and that brief relationship. She had kept in touch with Bess too, and Bess always managed to ask if Nancy had contacted Ned yet, or if he had contacted her. The longer his silence persisted, the longer she willed her own to last. It was a big universe. They might safely navigate it the rest of their lives without running into each other again.

It was a big universe. Sometimes it felt incredibly small.

Bess would understand. The hurt and anger Nancy felt both protected her from coming into contact with him and from risking further hurt—and served as the only remaining link between them. Once it faded, their marriage really would be over.

After a few months, Nancy realized she was truly waiting for that divorce communiqué from Vulcan, asking for her consent to dissolve the marriage. She checked the senders on all her subspace messages first thing each morning, dreading the thought of seeing one from them—or one from Ned. But it didn't come, didn't come.

She had married him twice that day, and she hadn't made her own divorce filing either.

Starfleet reclassified her from _single_ to another category: _married, assigned separately._ She didn't wear her ring and ship liaisons didn't look for one when they shook her hand, or ask about her spouse. She and George investigated reported violations of the Prime Directive, instances of mysterious death and suspected sabotage, and some delicate diplomatic matters. It happened when she least expected it, that strange sensation of sharing some part of him, some echo. It was most likely when she was tired or distracted. A clipped thoughtful tone came into her voice, and she was able to logic her way through problems in what felt like her sleep.

She wondered if it was truly some connection they still somehow shared, but when she reached out, afraid of what she might find, she found nothing at the other side. When she slept, she didn't dream of him.

When she touched herself, though, when she imagined a hot tongue lapping at her clit or a face above hers in the dark, she imagined his, and she wished with all her heart that she didn't. Other men flirted with her, but she didn't have the heart to flirt back. She felt like that part of her was still broken.

Seven months had passed when Nancy and George were sent to Starbase 226 again. They were to wait on the base for _Reliant_ to pick them up. Nancy had to check, and what she found both pleased her and caused her a rush of anxiety. Just as Ned had told her, he was assigned to the _Banner,_ and the ship was close to the starbase.

Their investigation took eight days to resolve. When they were making their plans to depart, Nancy asked permission to have _Reliant_ rendezvous with _Banner_ so she could transport over, and since her spouse was on board, her request was granted.

She still didn't know if he would consent to see her, though.

She beamed on board already feeling self-conscious, already unsure about how to introduce herself or to interact with the crew on the ship. As soon as she materialized, she put herself on a sort of autopilot, greeting the transporting officer with a cordial smile and asking the computer to locate Ned for her.

Nancy had made her request through the proper channels. Ned would be aware of her arrival.

She found him in a shuttlebay, and the scene's resemblance to the recordings she and George had watched repeatedly was eerie. Ned was working alongside the other engineers, consulting a padd as he talked to a tall dark-skinned woman. He looked up when Nancy stepped through the shuttlebay's doors, though.

The shuttlebay. In the previous reaction, they hadn't even had enough time to open the shuttlebay door and use the tractor beam to force the equipment through, into space, where the explosion might have been far less destructive.

Nancy swallowed her anxiety as Ned approached her. "Commander," he said in greeting, his tone neutral.

"Commander," she replied in kind. "I've arrived in the middle of your shift. I apologize. Can I speak to you once you're off-duty?"

The pause before his response was almost imperceptible. "That would be acceptable," he said. "I will find you."

Technically Nancy wasn't on duty, so once she located her assigned quarters, she changed into the dress Bess had suggested for her when they were on Betazed and headed for the crew's lounge. The large windows offered a panoramic view of the starfield around them, and Nancy spotted a few occupied game tables at the perimeter of the seating area. She ordered a Samarian sunset at the bar, took it to a small table and tapped the rim of the glass sharply. Watching the clear liquid turn a luminescent gold, then a pale peach color, felt soothing.

If his feelings hadn't changed, regardless of what Bess had told her was in his mind, then Nancy would grant him the divorce he had told her he wanted. She would chalk it up to a lesson learned and let it go.

The drink didn't last that long, and Nancy was finding it hard to concentrate or focus on anything other than her mounting anxiety. She returned to her quarters with her arms folded over her belly, her gaze unfocused.

She had hoped that her anger had faded. Now she wasn't so sure it had.

She had to talk herself out of changing back into her uniform four times, and when she heard her door's chime, she almost jumped out of her skin. "Come in," she called, half-rising.

Ned entered her quarters, his hands clasped behind his back. "Would you prefer to speak here, or elsewhere?"

"Here is fine," Nancy told him, smoothing her dress over her hips. "You look well."

"As do you," Ned replied. He didn't step any further into her quarters; he had only come far enough into the room to let the doors close behind him. His back was ramrod-straight, his dark eyes cautious and watchful.

"Please, sit down," Nancy said, gesturing to the desk chair. She sat down at the foot of the bed, tracing the lines of him again. Free of the intoxication of his _pon farr_ , she was able to see him more clearly, and that same sexual attraction she had felt toward him at their first meeting still lingered. It felt more intense now—but she knew now how compatible they were in bed. She just didn't know if they were compatible otherwise.

"I know..." Nancy sighed, her arms folded again. She glanced down. God, it was hard to talk about it. "When you told me our relationship was just... thanks to your condition, that hurt me a lot. I'm not saying I thought you... well, that what happened between us would have been that quick otherwise. But you've seen me, _all_ of me, and I thought that at least..." Nancy sighed again.

"Vulcan hasn't contacted me about our divorce."

"I have not yet contacted them," Ned told her.

"Why?"

Nancy saw the slight bob of his adam's apple as he swallowed before answering. "Work on the device has been time-consuming, and extensive."

"So extensive that you haven't had time to reverse a marriage you saw as a mistake." Nancy heard her own voice becoming angrier, and she shook her head. "I haven't either. I think I was waiting for you to do it. And I think... Ned, I know this is scary, okay? But I've never felt that way about anyone else before, and I don't think I ever will. Bess might call it _Imzadi_ , other people might call it soul mates—I don't know what I would call it. But I saw what's inside you. I saw that you _wanted_ what we had, too. So deep you would never admit it. I saw how lonely you were, and are. You wanted someone who could understand you, who could let you be yourself, even if it's behind closed doors."

Ned didn't respond, but his dark-eyed gaze was steady on her face.

"I know how you responded when I touched you... and how much I loved it when you touched me. And this person you are in front of everyone, I know how it is to put on a face for everyone else to see to hide who you really are. But we don't have to do that with each other. Not if you don't want to.

"If you want to..." Her heart was beating so fast, but she forced herself to continue. "I will be with you, and I'll let you be with me. I'll give you what you want. No more loneliness. No more hiding who you are and what you want, because..." She twisted her hands in her lap. "It's not weakness, Ned. Not always. We can... we can complete each other. Just like we did."

He was quiet, still watching her. She was fighting her instinct to leave, to just walk out of the room and leave him alone. Her self-consciousness made her blush.

"It's scary for you too, isn't it," she said softly. "I know who you are underneath, but I've never been a wife before. I've never even really been in a long-term serious relationship before. Which makes it all the more hilarious, that I agreed to marry you after having known you so brief a time.

"But the alternative, Ned... in a little over six years, what will you want? Will you want what we had, or will you want someone who keeps herself shielded from you, who sees your desire as weakness and endures sleeping with you instead of enjoying it?"

She stood, her heart beating so hard she could feel her lips trembling faintly with it, and touched his cheek, very slowly. He didn't shrink away from her, but she could see that fear in his eyes. "You told me what you wanted, didn't you," she said softly. "That we could be together when it was possible, not once every seven years. And you, you married me, this passionate, emotional human woman... and you could excuse our relationship by saying it wasn't _you_ , it was me. That when I came on board no one had to know that your heart was beating faster, that you couldn't wait to be with me.

"I've seen all of you, Ned. I'm giving you another chance. Don't chase me away, and I'll stay with you. You don't have to hold back anymore if you don't want to. I'm not asking you to be anything more than what you are."

"But you ask me to be less," Ned said, and his control was fraying, she could feel it. He stood and she kept her hand on his cheek, maintaining the contact as he gazed into her eyes. "I am _more_ than that."

"And so am I!" Nancy replied, her own control slipping. "I'm more than that, but this person I show to everyone else is to hide that loneliness and pain and fear that I thought you understood. When we were together, Ned..." She shook her head.

"I was—incapacitated. I was weak—"

"And you _chose me_ ," Nancy shot back. "Don't lie to me. I've seen you. And no, I won't take anything less. I can't. I know it's scary, okay? And I'm not asking you to be this vulnerable with anyone else. But I want to be with you like that again.

"But until we give this a real chance, I don't think either one of us will really be able to walk away. You won't be able to file for divorce because you feel the same about this that I do. And no, I don't give a damn about what anyone else thinks, if you're with me on this. I won't embarrass you, and I will do whatever makes you comfortable when we're around other people. But when you're with me, be _with me_."

Ned searched her eyes. She could see it, and she understood. For her, it had been terrifying to make this leap. For him, it was almost impossible.

Although for her it was merely a gesture, she brushed his _katra_ points with her fingers. He took a deep breath, then touched her the same way.

_I am afraid._

_I am too._ Nancy took a deep breath. _It could be so good, though. I've never felt this level of desire for anyone, Ned. I love you._

He leaned down, and she shivered when he touched his forehead to hers. _I love you._

_And it was better to be apart?_

_Yes._ It was better to lose her now than to let what was between them deepen until he could never let her go.

_Please._ Nancy's lips brushed his cheek. _Please don't. Not again. I couldn't bear it._

He tilted his head and kissed her, the brush of his lips tentative and soft, and she returned it fiercely. Together they stumbled to the bed, and she fell back onto it, pulling him down with her.

It hadn't been the _pon farr_. Not all of it. His inhibitions had been lowered, but the person she had connected to had been him. Just the version of him he kept so deeply buried that no one else had truly seen it.

_Yes. Please..._

Getting him out of his uniform didn't take long, and he didn't stop her. She broke their kiss long enough to order the computer to lock the door of her quarters, and by then Ned had the hem of her dress pushed up above her hips. He was maintaining their bond through touch, and God, his desire was infinite, more so because he knew now what they could have.

Anything. Everything. He could revel in the silky feel of her skin beneath his fingertips all night, the slight cool of her touch as she explored him. He didn't have to wait for the excuse of the _pon farr_ or anything else, because she wanted it too, and giving in was what they both wanted.

_You imagined me tasting you._

_Yes._ She would have blushed, but self-consciousness didn't matter. _I would taste you too if you wished. But you did not—_

_Only expelling my seed in your sex would break the fever._

_I will do whatever you wish. We have time, now._

His tone was curious, almost awestruck. _We can have pleasure._

_We can have pleasure when we wish it. I have the next week off, and when you're off-duty we can spend the entire time naked and wrapped around each other, if you so desire. I want you, Ned. I want to learn what pleases you._

_And I want to please you. More than our last encounter._

Her laughter rippled across the surface of his mind. _I do not think I could bear_ more _pleasure than what you gave me last time._

_But would you like to find out?_

He had her dress pulled half-off, and she was delighted by his quiet playfulness. He had been so intent, so focused, last time. After, she hadn't been able to linger in the afterglow with him. But he had still been reeling from how much he had shown her, and what she had given him in return.

_I have never..._ He brushed his thumb against her hardened nipple, and she shivered. _There has never been playfulness or joy. Only need and satisfaction. And then nothing._

_Not nothing._ Nancy slipped her dress off, her underwear. _More need and more need, and you just forced it down... come to me._

She kissed him, kissed and kissed him until he relaxed and returned it. When she was naked she straddled him, arching into his touch, cupping her hand over his to encourage it. When he touched her clit she moaned and took his erect cock in her hand, stroking her way down his length with the heel of her hand, giving him the same pleasure he was giving her as she caressed him.

"Nancy," he murmured, the first word he had spoken aloud since he had joined her in bed, his hips trembling as he responded to her touch.

"Yes," she whispered. "It's good, it feels right..." Her own hips were rocking too, and he closed his eyes when her fingertips gently brushed against his balls. "Yes. Let me..."

_I wasn't your first partner._

_But you are the first I have ever been connected to this way, and you will be the last._

He didn't feel jealousy over her previous relationships, only awe that her touch could wake so much pleasure in him. When she sensed that his formidable control was close to slipping, she gazed down at him, savoring the arousal and desire she could see in his face.

_Hold on,_ she asked him. _For me._

She scooted back, kneeling down, and though he knew what she intended to do, he had no idea how it would feel. She kept stroking her palm up and down the underside of his cock as she took the tip of it in her mouth and licked it gently.

He released a loud stuttering groan, straining under her, and she ducked her head down, swirling her tongue around the hard, hot flesh. What she was doing to him was so far beyond anything else he had ever experienced, and he was shocked by it, and so incredibly aroused. She took him as deep as she dared, until he was gasping and trembling under her touch.

_Let me_...

She rolled onto her back at his urging, parting her legs wide, and when he kissed her nipples she threaded her fingers through his hair. He worked his way down and she sensed his anxiety. He was depending entirely on what she wanted; he had never, never done anything like this before.

His tongue ran over her clit, hot and deliberate, and her entire body seemed to clench in answer. He tasted her, exploring her slick inner flesh with his tongue, tracing the folds with slow strokes, until he pushed it into the hollow of her sex.

Nancy arched, her hips bucking. "Oh, oh _God_ ," she whimpered.

_I am not your god._

"I know," Nancy gasped. "Oh it's so good feels so good..."

He thrust it into her a few times, then worked his way back up and suckled hard against her clit. Nancy cried out, tipping her head back and trembling as he worked two, then three fingers in and out of her sex.

_Come to me. Come to me..._

He thrust his fingers into her a few more times, until her fingers tightened in his hair, and then he obeyed her, a slight smile on his lips as he moved over her again. She caught his hips with her knees and he rolled over with her so she was straddling him again, and then she took his cock in her hand, angling it into place and positioning the tip at the entrance of her sex, before leaning down and kissing him.

_There is so much..._

_Yes. And we will feel it all._

She mounted him, then straightened, propping herself up behind her so she could control the speed and angle of her thrusts. "You've always wanted to watch," she murmured. "Oh, oh _God..._ "

"It is..." His breathing was labored.

"It is arousing to me to know you feel pleasure looking at me," she panted. "So look at me. My husband."

He watched her intently once she had given him permission, cupping her breast and fondling her nipple as she rose and sank onto him. Then he cupped her other breast, gently catching her nipples between his fingertips, and Nancy moaned loudly as she sank onto him in a faster thrust.

"How long do you wish me to last before ejaculation?" he murmured, the only sign that he wasn't discussing the weather the slight hitches in his breathing.

Nancy shuddered, tipping her head back with a sob as he brought one hand down to the join of her thighs, to rub his thumb against her clit. "I'll let you know," she whimpered. "Oh fuck you feel _so good_..."

_The size of my sexual organ gives you pleasure._

"God yes," she panted in response to his thought. "Oh God yes. Hot and thick and hard and you managed to _not_ come in my mouth during a blow job? I'm not sure you could be more perfect if you tried."

_You feel good too. Tight and well-lubricated._

Nancy brought her chin back down so she could look into his eyes, her own dancing. "And you know exactly what to say to make a girl hot," she teased him gently.

"It is true."

"Does this give you pleasure?" she whispered. "To make love to me?"

_Yes. So much..._ His jaw tightened. _I have never made love to anyone but you._

"Neither have I," she whispered. "Not like this. Oh _God_..."

She arched her back and began to move her hips in a figure-eight, and Ned began to fondle her clit more quickly, his breaths harsh.

_I need you._

She had her head tipped back, her reddish-gold hair swaying and brushing against her bare back as she fucked him, and when she sensed what he wanted she tipped her chin down again. He kept rubbing her clit as he brought his other hand up to touch her _katra_ points, and Nancy screamed as his hips bucked under hers, as the bond tore everything else away.

_Yes yes yesssss_...

Her entire body seemed to spasm and clench hard, her sex tight around his as she came, and he came with her, groaning as he spent himself. Somehow the physical pleasure was almost insignificant in comparison to the pleasure of the bond, of knowing how he felt and knowing she was responsible. She whimpered as she tried to pant her breath back, her heart speeding.

Then she looked into his dark eyes and saw the same intensity she had seen the last time they had shared her bed, the intensity and passion she had feared had been only in her mind.

"It wasn't—the fever," she gasped out, as his palm rested against her cheek, his fingers still in place. "It wasn't."

"It wasn't," he said quietly, as she slumped down against him.

Nancy closed her eyes, her other cheek against his hot perspiration-damp chest as his fingers stayed against her cheek, his thumb on her chin. "But you would never have told me," she whispered.

"No." _Because one day I will probably lose you the way I lost her. With her, the pain..._

"It hurt you when she died," Nancy said softly.

_There are no words for what losing you would do to me._

Nancy pushed herself up to look into his eyes. A Vulcan's average lifespan was one and a half times that of a human's. She would grow old and die before he did, if nothing else parted them first.

She gave him a small smile. "Then I will have to love you all the more now," she said softly, and planted a gentle kiss against his lips. "No more wasted time."

"No more," he agreed softly.

She searched his eyes again. "Will you wear your ring? Did you keep it?"

"I did. And I will wear it, if my wife desires it."

Nancy shivered. "I do."

"It's in my quarters."

"You can get it tomorrow." She kissed him again, lingering longer this time. "Thank God we have a replicator, since I have no intention of getting dressed again until your next shift, Commander."

"Nor do I." He reached up and kissed her gently again. "Nancy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.


End file.
